Revealing Secrets
by LunaeShark
Summary: A year ago, Katrina left Tranquility for a more peaceful life; now Megatron has returned. The key to changing Katrina's mind about fighting may lie in her shadowy past, but will her guardians accept the dark truth? Some things are best left hidden.
1. A Normal School Day

Well, after about a month of head/desk bashing, trying to start this fic, I finally succeeded. I hope you like it as much as you liked Keeping Secrets.

Reviews, including constructive criticism, are welcome and appreciated. Also, if you have time, please send some good karma my way. Considering the onslaught of comp troubles I've been having lately, I need it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Transformers. :(

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Hey, Optimus, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by for a quick visit, see what's kickin'."_

_ "Uh, Ironhide? Ya there?"_

_ "Ratchet? Hey, Hatchet, come outta hidin'!"_

_ "This isn't funny, guys, where are ya?"_

_ "Arcee? Sideswipe? Mudflap? Skids? Jolt? Lennox? Epps? Anyone here?"_

_ "Medbay's empty, trainin' ground's empty, barracks're empty. Even the brig's empty. Where _is_ everybody?"_

* * *

Chapter One

A Normal School Day

"Hey, Alien, what's up today?"

Katrina ignored the boy standing nearby and continued searching through her locker for the English paper she was sure had been in there that morning.

"Got any lasers in there, Alien?"

The girl tried not to smirk as she collected the stray paper and closed her locker door. If the bullies thought she'd take their given nickname as an insult, they couldn't be more wrong. She had a hard time not laughing at them – there was no way they could know that her two 'uncles' were _real_ aliens. Katrina herself wasn't completely human, though she looked it. Tucking the paper away, she started toward her next period class.

"What's the matter, Alien, don't you understand English?"

Despite the humor behind that nickname, it could get annoying after so many repeats along the same tired joke. Clenching her teeth, Katrina managed to sound relatively civil in her reply.

"Please step aside; I don't want to be late for class."

"'I don't want to be late for class'," mimicked the boy, then widened his eyes in mock horror when she raised a clenched fist. "Please don't hit me with your lightsaber, Alien, you might get hurt."

Several Cybertronian swears came to mind, but Katrina couldn't use any of them – the boy wouldn't understand. _He probably couldn't even compute the word Cybertronian_, she thought, barely hiding a smile. _I'd bet seeing Barricade in his bipedal form would make this kid wet his pants._

A soft buzzing noise started emitting from her pocket and Katrina scooped out the cell phone, elbowing past the boy since he wasn't getting out of her way voluntarily. Startled, the boy took a step after her, then crumpled to the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Hey, dude, what's the problem?" asked one of his cronies, stepping across the aisle and lending him a hand.

"That little...she punched me! Did you see it, Tim?"

Tim scratched his head. "Looked more like a sock from an elbow, her hands were full."

"Aw, who cares? I'll get her back later, I swear it."

"What've you got against her, anyway, Rick? Her uncle's a cop; you should just leave well enough alone."

Rick shook his head. "No way. There's something fishy about that girl and I'm going to find out what it is. Come on, we'll be late for class."

The warning bell chose that moment to ring and there was a collective pounding noise as everyone remaining in the halls raced the tardy bell to their rooms.

Katrina quickly completed the math assignment her teacher handed out, then turned her attention to Morse, who had become a calculator – a new altmode he'd created in order to come to school. He preferred his original altmode, but cell phones had to stay turned off when in a classroom, and while Morse could be more silent than a grave and shut down in less than a millisecond, teachers would confiscate him on sight.

As a calculator, he could communicate without fear of being caught. Morse blinked ones and twos on the screen and Katrina responded by pushing the eight and nine buttons. It was great practice for Morse code and as long as she was careful to act like she was adding numbers for a math problem, they could talk during most of the class.

Math was Friday's final period, so Katrina and her friend discussed how the day had gone. First period, History, had been a pop quiz and Katrina hoped she'd gotten the answers right. Morse wished he could have helped, but the girl refused to cheat, even though keeping all those names and dates straight gave her a headache. Second period had started fine, but her Art teacher had kept her after class to discuss the girl's 'unusual application of oil paints' and Katrina had been late getting to the cafeteria, which meant no empty tables to claim. She had eaten outside, away from the crowds and cliques.

NEED FRIENDS, Morse blinked. He worried about Katrina – this was her second year at this school and she hadn't yet made any close friends. There were a few acquaintances that occasionally made an effort to include her, but she seemed perfectly content to drift along at the edges of the bustling school life. Morse had discussed the situation with the girl's guardians a few times, but there was little they could do. Barricade was unconcerned as long as his charge seemed happy about her situation. Jazz did consider it a problem, but speaking with the girl did nothing and the Autobot was too often gone these days to do much more.

Katrina shook her head, tapping the keys a little harder than she needed to during her reply. GOT YOU.

HUMAN FRIENDS, Morse replied, knowing what the answer would be before Katrina had finished tapping it out. They'd had this argument too many times to count.

DO NOT NEED. DO NOT WANT. EVER.

Morse sighed inwardly, then changed the subject.

* * *

Katrina loved Fridays because they meant another weekend had finally arrived, but she also hated them for to the mad rush everyone was in to get out the school doors first. Sleepover invitations were being yelled back and forth, demands of phone calls and get-togethers rising above the incessant, joyful hum.

Fighting against the crowd, Katrina made it to her locker and traded her backpack for a smaller one. She moved her homework and the few textbooks she needed to the second backpack before shoving the larger bag into her locker and slamming the door, almost on a boy's fingers.

"What do you want?" she snapped, irritated by the constant noise clawing at her ears and the appearance of her tormentor from earlier. The kid had been lurking around since the end of the school year before; she'd almost asked Barricade if they could move to a different town, just so she wouldn't have to deal with this amateur stalker. A summer-long road trip had calmed her down enough that she hadn't said anything, but now Katrina was beginning to think she'd made a mistake.

"What's your real name, Alien?"

"My name is Katrina Cade, as you well know," she snarled, shoving her face close to his. "If you have a problem with that, speak with my uncle. I'm sure he'll be happy to change his last name to suit your whim."

This drew a blank look. "Suit my what?"

Katrina was already halfway down the hall, being jostled from side to side by the crowd. At one point she found herself sandwiched between two boys wearing World of Warcraft t-shirts and shouting back and forth about some awesome movie commercial they'd seen on TV the day before.

"Man, they totally stole that idea off those guys from last summer!"

"That was so cool how they flickered the actual news in and out! I can't wait for the film to hit theaters."

"If it does - the last one got shut down in the final stages."

"Yeah, that really sucked. Say, are you free Saturday night? Thought we could get some of the others together for a tournament."

"Yeah, sure, if the 'rents agree."

Covering her ears, though it did little to cut down on the noise, Katrina pushed her way to the wall and tucked herself in a corner until the crowd had thinned enough that she didn't feel claustrophobic. Morse was vibrating in her pocket but she didn't pull him out until she reached the front door. Breathing in the fresh air, so much better than the recycled and conditioned stuff inside the school, Katrina skipped down the steps two at a time as she raised Morse to her ear.

_ "Don't bother taking the bus. I'm getting off early today."_

"Okay," Katrina said, resisting the urge to punch the air in victory. She hadn't been looking forward to the hour long trip on a huge bus that smelled like old socks.

_ "If you'd rather take the bus, I can-"_

"No, really, please pick me up," Katrina hastened to say, hoping Barricade was simply teasing her. The light chuckle that preceded his next words told her this was so, and she relaxed.

_ "Bad day at school?"_

Tensing again, the girl sighed. "No." Then she brightened. If Barricade was asking about her school day, Jazz must have returned. Only the Autobot ever thought to ask how her day had gone – her other guardian seemed to assume that if she still functioned, all had gone well. For the most part, this was true, but it was nice to be reminded that someone cared. Though Barricade had already more than proven that by leaving the Decepticons and risking his life on a daily basis to protect her, he didn't express his feelings very often. Jazz made it clear he cared for her, but he was often gone on missions for the Autobots, and Katrina missed him during his absences. "Is Jazz back?"

_ "No, should he be?"_

Katrina's shoulders slumped, then she perked up again. Barricade was making progress, if he had thought to ask about her day without prompting. "Then why are you asking how school was?"

There was a soft crackle of static – coming from a human it might have been a snort of derision. _"Do I need Jazz to remind me about the finer details of raising a youngling?"_

_Yes_, Katrina thought. _You do._ "No."

_ "Correct. I'll be there in five minutes."_

"Okay."

Morse beeped, his signal for the call being over, and Katrina returned him to her pocket, not wanting another conversation that would lead to him suggesting she talk with one of the other kids waiting to be picked up. After brushing a few leaves off the bottom step with one sneaker, Katrina sat down and slid off her backpack, resting it in her lap. She leaned on the stone railing and closed her eyes. _Why couldn't I be homeschooled?_ Last year she had suggested it to her guardians, but Jazz had said that she needed to socialize with her own species, and Barricade, surprisingly, had agreed. Frenzy had sided with Barricade, of course, and even Morse thought public school was a good idea. Katrina sighed.

Something thumped on the step beside her and Katrina blinked, then glared at the boy perched on the step above. It seemed her stalker had not finished bothering her for the day.

He smirked down at her. "Got a problem, Alien?"

"Do you?" she retorted. A honk came from the parking lot and Katrina turned her head, jumping to her feet as she recognized the police cruiser pulling into the parking lot. Backpack slung over one shoulder, Katrina raced across the parking lot and almost dove onto the rear passenger's seat.

"That kid bothering you?" Barricade asked, scanning the kid still sitting on the step, staring after Katrina.

Katrina shrugged. "Not really." Not enough that she needed her 'Uncle Cade' to deal with it, anyway.

"A potential boyfriend, perhaps?" the mech suggested, pulling out of the school parking lot.

"That's-not-funny-Barricade," warned Frenzy, noticing the girl's narrowed eyes. "At-least-Katrina-doesn't-think-it's-funny-you-really-shouldn't-tease."

"That kid's been giving me grief since last year. I pity the girl unlucky enough to have him for a boyfriend," Katrina growled, her purple eyes darkening with a fury that made her slam her seatbelt buckle into its slot with a little more force than necessary.

Barricade winced, more from the buckle jamming than in reaction to the girl's harsh words – his only interest in the young human male was how he interacted with the mech's charge. "What kind of grief? Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Something wrong, Barricade?" Katrina asked, frowning. "You're acting weird."

"Excuse me?" Barricade said innocently.

"You've never been worried about my school life before."

Brief static crackled over the car's speakers. "What school life? According to Morse, you're practically invisible except for a few kids who've attached the nickname 'Alien' to you. Shouldn't I be worried?" Barricade sounded more angry than worried, but Katrina didn't think it was a good time to point that out. "I know Jazz is."

"Where _is_ Jazz?"

"Still away on that Autobot mission, I suppose. If everything went as planned, he should be back tonight."

Leaning back in her seat, Katrina sighed. _The Autobots keep calling him away, or he keeps checking on them. I thought he was supposed to be my guardian._

"We're _both_ your guardians," said Barricade.

The girl winced, realizing that she'd spoken her last thought aloud. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you're right, guardians are supposed to stay with-" Barricade was interrupted by a beeping noise from his radio. His hologram muttered a curse in a language that would have been impossible for a human's vocal cords to properly reproduce, then grabbed the handheld transmitter. "This is _off-duty_ Officer Cade. What's the situation?"

"Got a bank robbery. Red van with black stripes, headed your way. I know you're off-duty, but-"

"I'm on it." Cade's hologram slammed down the transmitter. "Fragging humans can't do anything themselves," he muttered. "Hold on, Katrina."

Katrina tightened her seatbelt and moved Morse from her shoulder from her lap just in time. The sudden acceleration pressed her against the seat and she covered her ears as the siren wailed to life.


	2. Falling Star

I'm pleased to announce that I finally own _Revenge of the Fallen_, as of 12.40pm on Saturday! Watched it that night and it woke up my fanfic muse, who's been sleeping for the past week...

Many thanks to all readers and reviewers, and a special thank you to the friend who first told me about parkour. Now, if only I could find someone to teach me...

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Hey, Crystal, what's up?"_

_ "Want to come over tomorrow? Rachel and Sarah are free for a sleepover."_

_ "Sure. Would you mind if I invited Katrina Cade?"_

_ "Who's she?"_

_ "I'll give you a hint, she's got purple eyes."_

_ "Oh, yeah, I know her, she's in my math class. Why do you want to invite her over?"_

_ "I feel sorry for her, I don't think her uncle lets her go out much."_

_ "Maybe she prefers it that way."_

_ "So?"_

_ "So what?"_

_ "Do you mind if I invite her?"_

_ "I guess not. It'd give us a chance to find out where she got that cool phone and what happened to her parents. I wonder if they were murdered and that's why her uncle's a cop?"_

_ "Crystal!"_

_ "Just joking."_

* * *

Chapter Two

Falling Star

Whipping around a sharp corner, Barricade heard Katrina scream – Frenzy had been flung from his seat and landed in altmode on the girl's lap, startling her. A quick scan assured her guardian that she was unhurt, so he focused on the red van accelerating down the side street, blowing its horn. One human, a young male, had his head stuck out the passenger window, waggling his hands by his ears in a gesture the Neutral took to be an attempt at obscenity. Engine revving, Barricade quickly closed the distance between them.

"Pull over," his hologram yelled, appearing to steer with one hand while the other pointed a holographic gun at the robbers. "Pull over or I shoot."

White-faced, the drive gave a short nod, then slammed on his brakes. Anticipating the maneuver, Barricade skidded to a stop. There was a muffled thump from the backseat, but he ignored it. Glaring at the two teens, his hologram opened the car door and stood, now holding two pairs of handcuffs, the gun tucked into a very visible shoulder holster. "Out of the van, and don't try to run, I've got back up coming."

Hands on their heads, the boys climbed out mutely and allowed themselves to be handcuffed. Then Barricade realized he couldn't transport the two of them with Katrina sitting in the back, and released the catch on the girl's seatbelt. Katrina flinched when the buckle suddenly came undone, then reached to the same conclusion Barricade had. She tucked Morse into one pocket, grabbed her backpack, and scooped up Frenzy – who had smartly switched to altmode – with her free hand, then opened the car door.

"All yours, kids," she said, smirking at the two teens, both of whom looked much older than her fourteen years. They glared back but kept quiet. "Uncle Cade, can I ride up front?" _Probably not, I've never been allowed to before. Still worth a shot, though._

"No, I'm not supposed to transport civilians in my cruiser while on duty. There's a coffee shop two blocks down, grab a donut or something. I'll be back as soon as I've delivered these two to headquarters."

Katrina sighed. _Knew it._ "All right."

"Got your cell?"

"And I'll call you if there's any trouble." The girl headed down the street, holding tightly to Frenzy's carrying handle. She could feel him quivering, wanting to transform, and tapped the pocket holding Morse twice. In a few seconds Frenzy had calmed down, but Katrina could feel a slight headache coming on, which usually happened when internal comms were being used in her vicinity. Sometimes she wondered why she didn't always hear the conversations, but had long ago decided that it was for the best. When she actually heard words, the headache was much more piercing than the little pain currently prodding at her temples.

By the time she reached Ben's Biscuits and Buns, Katrina felt fine, and more than a little hungry. Stomach growling softly, the girl went inside, hoping she had some money – most days she forgot to grab her wallet. Luck was on her side, the wallet was in her pocket. Katrina spent a couple minutes scrutinizing the menu, paying no heed to the odd stares she got from the other customers.

"You hitchhiking or something?" asked the cashier while ringing up Katrina's order, giving the CD player a pointed look.

"No." Katrina dug out three dollars and sixty seven cents, set the money on the counter and scooped up her purchase.

"Do you want-" the door slammed shut, bell tinkling "-a receipt?" Shaking her head and muttering about the rudeness of kids these days, the cashier turned to her next customer. "How may I help you?"

Leaning against the wall near the coffee shop's door, Frenzy resting on the pavement by her feet, Katrina bit into a double-glazed strawberry jelly donut. The sugary sweetness burst in her mouth and she smiled, her earlier good mood restored. Morse vibrated in her pocket and the girl pulled him out with the hand not covered in sticky, melting glaze.

"Hello?" she asked, keeping to the charade of a teen answering a normal phone call, on a normal phone.

"How-long-we-going-to-wait-here-for-Barricade-I-am-tired-and-want-to-go-home?"

"You're not the only one." Katrina swallowed another bite of donut. "How long does it usually take to get to the police HQ?"

"Twenty-minutes-from-here-if-Barricade-takes-the-main-road."

Katrina groaned. Even with his siren on, Barricade would not be able to navigate the afternoon 'rush hour' traffic in less than ten minutes. "Probably half an hour, then."

"I-want-to-go-home-am-sick-of-being-in-altmode."

"I know, I know, just-" Katrina paused mid-sentence, as she became aware that during her conversation a gang of boys she recognized from school had appeared around the corner of the shop at the end of the block. "Hang on, I've spotted trouble." Ignoring Morse's beeps of protest, Katrina shoved him into her pocket, scooped up Frenzy, and headed inside. The last thing she needed was a run-in with those kids, especially with Frenzy right there, he'd almost certainly transform and then they'd be in worse trouble.

Keeping her eyes on an empty table in the corner of the coffee shop, Katrina navigated the maze of customers and furniture to her destination, mumbling apologies when she bumped against someone. After moving the second chair to a nearby table, Katrina set Frenzy on the tabletop and settled in the remaining chair, resolving to make her donut last until Barricade returned for them.

The door's bell rang out over the general murmur of the coffee shop crowd and Katrina flicked her gaze in that direction for a brief second, then shrank down. _Don't let them notice me_. Her wish was granted as the boys converged on the counter, buying what looked like half the donuts in the store, before vanishing outside. A sigh of relief escaped Katrina's mouth and she relaxed, licking glaze from her fingers. Something poked her leg and Katrina jumped, then yanked Morse out of her pocket and set him on the table. Rubbing the sore spot, she took a large bite of donut and tried not to hear the soft beeps her friend made. Despite her efforts, the girl's mind automatically translated Morse's message.

THEY COME.

Katrina frowned. "Who comes?" she whispered, scanning the coffee shop. No sign of anything suspicious and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the kid talking to herself, so Katrina dared to ask, "Morse, who comes?"

BEHIND.

Automatic reflexes had the girl glancing over her shoulder, and she gulped, noticing the boys standing outside the coffee shop, peering through the window and pointing straight toward her table. They seemed to be having a discussion, then a short shoving match started, which ended with one kid on the ground, clutching a shoulder. The others headed for the door.

GO.

No further bidding was needed. Snatching Morse, Katrina abandoned her half-eaten donut and grabbed Frenzy as she ran to the counter.

"How may I help you?" asked the cashier. "Want another-"

"Do you have a back door?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Please let me use it," Katrina begged, shooting a look toward the door – the boys were inside and ambling in her direction, confidence clear, they knew she was trapped.

"Only personnel are allowed in the kitchen-"

"I won't be long." Using a nearby man's shoulder to boost herself, Katrina vaulted over the counter, silently thanking Jazz for the hours he'd spent training her to use her surroundings for flight when the situation arose. The cashier screamed and shouted for help, but the girl had already vanished through the double swinging door that led to the kitchen. There were two bakers, both startled by Katrina's sudden appearance. One had the presence of mind to ask what she thought she was doing.

"Getting out of here, where the door?" Panting, the girl spotted the exit without aid and dashed through. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving two confused cooks, an annoyed cashier and plenty of surprised customers to sort things out. Not caring if anyone overheard her, Katrina told Morse to contact Barricade ASAP, then snuck down the alley that ran behind the coffee shop and two neighboring stores. Boys' voices caught her attention and she ducked behind a large dumpster, holding her breath until the running footsteps and shouts faded. After checking that the coast was clear, Katrina moved to a spot where she had a clear view of the street and waited for Barricade to show up. Adrenaline was still racing through her veins when he stopped in front of the coffee shop ten minutes later, siren wailing.

* * *

"I leave you alone for twenty minutes and you manage to wreak havoc," Barricade complained on the way home, his voice carrying an undercurrent of concern.

Hugging her knees to her chest, Katrina bowed her head and gave a small shrug, unsure what to say. Morse crouched on his friend's shoulder, chirping quietly, a welcome distraction, though he made it clear that he was in complete agreement with the Neutral. STUPID THING TO DO.

"You're lucky no one got hurt when you were playing ninja, or we might have had to move."

_I wish_. "Sorry, Barricade."

"You-should-be-sorry-I-got-scratched-on-that-stupid-dumpster." Frenzy rubbed a shoulder and grimaced. "Next-time-I-stay-with-Barricade."

"It's just a scratch," said Katrina, leaning forward, one hand outstretched. "I can-"

"No," Barricade interrupted. "His nannites can deal with it. No need for you to use the AllSpark's power."

Katrina sighed and leaned back. "I'm going to get rusty if I don't use it, Barricade."

"Humans are incapable of-"

"Metaphorically, I mean." The girl rolled her eyes. "I could forget how to draw on the power right when it is most important."

"Relying on the AllSpark's power to fix everything is foolish." Barricade paused to let his words sink in, then added, "Why did you run?"

Katrina turned her gaze to the scenery flashing by outside. "Those boys go to my school and they aren't real friendly. I didn't want any trouble, so-"

"-so you decided to terrify three women by running rampage through their bakery."

Sighing, the girl shook her head. "I didn't mean to. Also, I don't get why the place is called Ben's when there's only females working-"

"Don't change the subject, Katrina, I am not pleased with you."

"Sorry," mumbled Katrina. _Why am I always so much trouble?_ "Please don't tell Jazz? He'll want to speak with the boys' parents and that will only make things worse."

Barricade wondered if he should speak with said parents himself, then decided to give the girl the benefit of doubt once. "I won't tell Jazz about this if you don't, but next time you won't be so lucky."

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair as usual, since only Katrina ate human food. After eating the take-out pizza they'd picked up on the way home, the girl put the leftovers in the fridge, then went upstairs, backpack of homework slung over one slumped shoulder. Her room was almost bare, a twin bed with plain white sheets and dark blue blankets pushed into one corner, her desk on the opposite side of the room. Two lamps lit up when she flicked the wall switch, a short one on her nightstand and a tall one by the desk. The walls were covered in blue wallpaper with white trim and white curtains hung in front of the window. A small dresser by the door completed the image. Everything was neat and clean, the way she'd been taught, and Katrina took a moment to set her schoolbooks out in the desk before collecting her pajamas and hairbrush on the way to the bathroom.

Teeth and hair brushed, ready for bed, Katrina sat at her desk and did her best to focus on the math homework. It wasn't a hard assignment, but scenes from the day kept looping in her mind. Stalker boy, laughing as he called her Alien. The gang's fight outside the shop. Her precarious leap over the coffee shop counter – a move she felt pride about, not something she could usually pull off. _Too bad I can't tell Jazz without revealing where and why I did it_, she thought, doodling on the margin of the top homework sheet. A passable facsimile of her guardian's face began to appear under her pencil tip, and the girl scowled, flipped the pencil around and erased the image. _Barricade said he might come home tonight_. Glancing at her alarm clock, the girl sighed. _It's already late. He would have been here by now._

Half an hour passed and Katrina finally finished her homework, placing the pencil with its fellows in their holder before standing and stretching. A beeping noise caught her attention, now that she wasn't fully focused on solving math problems, and she glanced toward the closed bedroom door, then gasped and ran to open it. Loud clicks came from Morse as he scuttled in.

NO LEAVE IN POCKET, he scolded, waving one leg at his friend, who winced. She knew what it was like to be left in room alone and forgotten.

"Morse, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

OK. Satisfied that his friend had been suitably scolded, the little mech waved his front legs.

Smiling with relief, Katrina scooped up the little spider and moved him to her nightstand before crossing the room to flick the light switch. "Good night, Morse," she whispered, feeling her way to the window. It opened without a single squeak and the girl stuck her head out, shivering in the chill night air, which smelled of rain. "Good night, Barricade, Frenzy."

"Good night, now close the window before the heater starts," came Barricade's grumbling reply. "And Frenzy's inside."

"Barricade-says-I-can-sleep-inside-tonight," Frenzy babbled from the direction of the door.

Confirmation of this came from the mech outside. "No need for both of us to get woken up if the night watch needs assistance."

Katrina was glad their nearest neighbor was a good half mile down the road, since neither Neutral seemed interested in keeping their voice down. She shut the window to halt the conversation and moved to her bed, yelping when she walked into the nightstand.

"Stupid-human-can't-see-in-the-dark."

"Shut up, Frenzy," she snapped, curling up under her blankets. "Or sleep in the living room."

"No-thanks. Move-over-insect."

Something thumped on Katrina's pillow, then Morse snuggled up against her shoulder. NIGHT.

"Night, Morse," she whispered, giving him a quick pat.

Another thump came from the bottom of the bed, followed by a skittering motion as Frenzy found a suitable spot to curl up. "Night-Katrina."

"Night, Frenzy."

"Night-Morse."

NIGHT.

"Can-I-come-to-school-tomorrow?"

Half-asleep, Katrina shrugged. "Ask me in the morning."

NO SCHOOL SATURDAY.

"Forgot. How-about-Monday?"

"Maybe, Frenzy," said Katrina, hoping a half-promise would be enough to silence her friends so she could sleep. _Though I'm pretty sure Barricade won't allow it..._

* * *

11:47.

11:52.

12:01.

The alarm clock's red digits blinked softly, almost hypnotizing Katrina. She stared at the glowing numbers, wishing it was morning and she'd had a good sleep. Every time she went deeper than a light doze, strange dreams, or worse, nightmares, would show up. Exhausted, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. _Why can't I sleep?_

KATRINA?

"Sorry, Morse, did I wake you?" she whispered.

NO SLEEP.

"Same here." Katrina sighed. "Want to go for a walk?"

OK.

Dark as the house was at night, Katrina didn't dare turn on any lights, in case she disturbed Barricade or Frenzy. She padded down the stairs as quietly as possible, biting back a whimper when she walked into a wall instead of turning left, toward the front door. The lock made a soft click as she unlocked it, and Katrina froze, the tiny sound like a gunshot in the stillness. After counting to twenty she turned the handle and slipped out. There was a multitude of stars shining that night. Katrina and Morse searched for familiar constellations for a while as they walked away from the house, heading toward the overgrown field that made up most of the backyard. Growing bored of their current pastime, the friends began making up their own shapes, tracing them out among the unknown stars.

"There's you," Katrina said, making a circle with her finger. "And right next to you is Frenzy in altmode, and Barricade and Jazz."

I SEE AUTOBOT SIGN.

The girl flinched and turned her attention to a different patch of stars. "Oh, look, there's a shooting star, Morse. Make a wish!" _I wish school was over and we were traveling again._

FOR WHAT?

Katrina smiled. "Anything you want. Don't tell me what it is, though, else it won't come true."

STAR FALL HERE.

"What?"

COME HERE. Morse's leg, a glint of silver in the starlight, jabbed frantically in the direction of the shooting star. Katrina's breath caught as she realized her friend was right – the star was headed straight for them. Holding her breath, she watched carefully, hoping that if she saw where it fell, they'd be able to retrieve the meteorite in the morning. Her science teacher would be amazed.

The shooting star grew larger with each passing second and Katrina began to wonder if they should move out of its way. "Morse-"

With a loud crash the meteorite struck, sending up a cloud of dust and sparks about a hundred yards from where Katrina stood. Coughing, she waved a hand in front of her face. "I didn't think it would be that big, most big ones break up in the atmosphere." She glanced over her shoulder. Everything looked quiet back at the house, so the crash must not have disturbed Barricade. "Want to check it out?"

GET BARRICADE FIRST?

Katrina hesitated, then shook her head. "No, we don't need protection from a space rock, however large it is." She took one last peek at the house, then started across the field toward the crash site.


	3. Unanticipated Arrivals

Been running around all week. Which produced a LOT of writer's block. I need a real vacation...

Thanks for reviewing and reading. ^.^

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Barricade-wake-up-Katrina-is-gone."_

_ "What?"_

_ "She-is-not-in-her-room."_

_ "Did you check the rest of the house?"_

_ "No-no-no-I-will-do-that-right-now."_

_ "She's probably in the bathroom."_

_ "No-she-is-not-and-I-can't-find-the-insect-either."_

_ "Stay in the house. I'll go find her, she can't have gone far."_

* * *

Chapter Three

Unanticipated Arrivals

As Katrina neared the impact crater, she began to have doubts that this was an ordinary meteorite. It was huge and symmetrical in shape, resembling a giant egg, and looked more like metal than rock. When the meteorite began to shake, Katrina halted, suddenly uneasy.

_Maybe I should get Barricade. No, he wouldn't believe me if I said a meteorite fell and started moving on its own. Jazz would know what to do, but he's not here._ The girl took a few more steps forward._ Maybe I'm dreaming and a giant space chicken will land soon and demand I bring it the president._ Laughing at the idea, Katrina didn't hear the creaking sounds coming from the meteorite.

Morse did. Forgotten but still sitting on his friend's shoulder, he let out a high-pitched whistle that stopped the girl in her tracks.

"Morse, what's wrong?" she hissed.

DANGER, clicked the little spider. RUN.

_Must not be a dream, then._ Morse tapping frantically in her ear, Katrina spun around and dashed for home. Barricade could deal with whatever it was; the last thing she needed was to get hurt and have to go to school with a cast. It would only earn her more teasing or pitying looks that she didn't want.

A large metal hand closed around the girl. Covering Morse with one hand, Katrina kicked out and back, hoping to hit something damageable, like an eye. _Optic_, she corrected herself, remembering Jazz's recent lecture on the subject of his species' anatomy. Her foot flailed in mid-air; the girl groaned and went limp, hoping that her captor wouldn't tighten his - or her - grip.

A moment later surprise, relief, then irritation flooded her as she was turned to face her captor. She would have folded her arms, but the right one was currently pinned to her side. Katrina settled for glaring at the familiar mech who held her in front of his face.

"Sideswipe, put me down," she demanded. "What are you doing here? I told you guys to leave me alone!"

The mech tightened his grip, causing the girl to gasp in surprise. Since when did Autobots hurt humans?

"Who are you? How do you know 'Sides? _Where is he?_"

Katrina gulped, realizing her mistake when the moon came out from behind the clouds and revealed that the light-colored mech was yellow, not red. This had to be Sideswipe's twin. The girl wracked her brain for the mech's name, but she couldn't remember it. Not surprising; it had been over a year since she'd last seen an Autobot other than Jazz and she rarely spoke of them, even to him.

"_Where is he?_" the mech bellowed in Katrina's face.

Morse jumped out from beneath Katrina's left hand and fired two shots from his tiny cannons before tumbling to the ground.

"Morse!" Worry for her friend overcame her fear and Katrina strained to get a glimpse of the little spider. It had been a long fall and the mech could easily step on him, whether on purpose or by accident.

"Little slagger," muttered the yellow mech, grabbing Morse. He held him up, carefully pinched between two fingers so the spider couldn't fire. "You scratched my paint. Got any last words, you piece of scrap?"

"Hurt the insect or the human and you're dead," Barricade growled, striding into view, his loudly humming cannon pointed straight at the yellow mech. "Now put them down."

"With pleasure." The yellow mech dropped Katrina and Morse, then dove at Barricade, who dodged and fired his cannon, hitting the mech's left arm.

Katrina was winded from her fall but unhurt thanks to a soft landing on the soggy ground. Scrambling to her feet, the girl waved her hands above her head, trying to get the attention of the fighting mechs. "Stop! You want the neighbors to call 911?"

Barricade ducked a punch and swung his cannon, catching the yellow mech on the side of his head. He went down heavily and didn't get back up.

"Don't move, Katrina," ordered the black mech, cannon leveled on his attacker.

"What?" the girl protested. "You better not off-line him, or Jazz will have your aft!"

"Be quiet, and I suggest you stop taking language lessons from Jazz, or I'll have _his_ aft." Barricade's cannon vanished. "No need to off-line this one. He's already headed for the Pit."

"I'll be taking you with me," the yellow mech snarled, pushing himself up with one hand, the other whipping out a sword from thin air. His first swing went wide, then Barricade struck him again and he collapsed. His limbs trembled with the effort to rise, but this time they lacked the strength. The mech settled for glaring at his attacker as though he had not been the one to start the brief skirmish.

Barricade shook his head. "You're in no condition to take anyone anywhere, though I'm sure the human will fix that shortly."

"How bad did you hurt him?" asked Katrina, brushing dirt off her hands and onto her pajamas, the muddy prints barely visible among countless other streaks.

"Don't blame me for his injuries. I barely put a dent in his armor. Looks like he tangled with someone on the way here."

"Should've seen the other mechs," mumbled the yellow mech.

Katrina came closer, wincing as she noticed the wounds she hadn't seen earlier. Deep scratches in the armor, dangling wires and a deep hole in his chest. _It's amazing that he can function at all,_ she thought, a heavy frown on her as it was, though, the damage was nothing she couldn't fix. The girl walked the last few yards and placed her hands on the mech's shoulder.

He pulled away and Katrina rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to help you, lie still."

"Decepticon pet, stay back," the mech hissed, tinges of red spreading through his blue optics.

The girl bristled. "Barricade's not a Decepticon and I'm not his pet. Now stop moving so I can heal you."

A sharp sound that faintly resembled laughter left the mech's vocalizer. "Heal me? Riiiiight. I bet you're a highly trained medic, even better than Ratchet the Hatchet."

Scowling at the sarcasm, Katrina moved forward, but the mech continued to inch away. "If you don't believe me, ask Jazz." She could see the shock in his optics and grinned, glad her gamble on him knowing about the Autobot's death had paid off. "Before you say it, yes, I know he was dead, but he's alive now."

"How?" the mech demanded, his expression mixing disbelief with hope.

"Allow me to show you." The girl closed her eyes. _Please work. _To her relief, the tingle of power flowed down her arms, making her hands glow blue. Before the yellow mech could react, she touched his shoulder again, right above the most recent damage.

The glow spread to envelop him, then vanished, and Katrina sank to her knees, shaking. She hadn't used the power in a long time, and had forgotten how draining it was. Taking a deep breath, the girl rubbed her eyes, fighting off sleep. The yellow mech's eyes were dark, but his spark was glowing brightly in his chest, and the wounds were gone, so Katrina guessed that he was in recharge.

Her job done, the girl turned her attention to her missing friend. "Morse, where are you?" Fear filled her voice, what if one of the mechs had stepped on him in the confusion? It wouldn't be hard in the dark, especially since he was so much smaller.

Without a word Barricade held out his hand. A cheerfully chirping Morse hopped from the mech's palm to Katrina's shoulder, and she relaxed. "Thanks, Barricade. I was worried for a moment there. You okay, Morse?" she asked, tilting her head so she could see her friend.

YES, he clicked, and she smiled.

"What're ya doin' up this late, Katrina? Stargazin'? Ah hope ya weren't out in the rain, ya might catch a cold."

"Jazz!" the girl squealed, whirling around and running toward the silver mech. "You're back!"

The Autobot met her halfway across the field. "Sorry Ah took so long. How's school goin'?"

"Fine," Katrina replied automatically, not wanting to talk about it. "Come on, Jazz, Barricade's going to need your help to move someone."

"What happened? Did a Decepticon attack? Are ya okay?"

Katrina laughed. "No, a meteorite fell from the sky, only it wasn't a meteorite, it was a mech. I think he's an Autobot because he has blue eyes, I mean, optics, but he wasn't very nice when he picked me up. He was hurt, too, so I-"

"Sunstreaker!" exclaimed Jazz, cutting off Katrina's babble the second he caught sight of the mech lying on the ground. "Thank Primus, they'd 'bout given up hope of ya showin' up."

"Shut it down, some of us are trying to recharge," grumbled the yellow mech without bothering to turn on his optics.

"Well Ah wanna speak with ya. Where've ya been, Sunny?"

The mech's optics came on at this and he sat up with a scowl. "One, don't call me that. Two, where's 'Sides? He here, too? And three, why is that fragging glitch of a Decep-"

Barricade growled and Jazz hastily interrupted the yellow mech. "Barricade's Neutral right now, Sunstreaker, and lay off the language 'fore Katrina starts pickin' it up and Barricade off-lines the both of us for it."

"Too late," Barricade snapped. "Speaking of which, Jazz..."

"Ya can lecture me later," said Jazz, folding his arms. "Dawn's approachin', Sunny needs t' rest, and I've got bad news."

"Bad news?" Katrina asked, her stomach already twisting into a knot. "Are the Autobots okay?"

"Ah don't know," Jazz said, sighing. "Ah visited their base when Ah didn't get an answer t' my comms. It's deserted, the whole place, no humans, no 'Bots, nothin'."

The girl could feel the blood in her face draining away. "What happened? Did the Decepticons...?"

"No, it wasn't them, there would've been signs. It looks like they moved."

"Shouldn't they have contacted you?"

"That's part of the bad news, they didn't."

"There's another part?" Katrina sat down, ignoring the fact that her pajamas were getting soaked. Her legs simply refused to keep her upright any longer and her clothes were too dirty to worry about a few more grass and dirt stains.

"Have ya been payin' attention t' the news?" Jazz asked, turning to Barricade.

"Been busy," grumbled the black mech, looking a little embarrassed.

"Remember the television trick Megatron pulled last year? Well, the Fallen did the same a few days ago."

Katrina froze, snatches of a conversation she'd overheard coming to mind.

_"Man, they totally stole that idea off those guys from last summer!"_

_ "That was so cool how they flickered the actual news in and out! I can't wait for the film to be out."_

_ "If it comes out - the last one got shut down in the final stages."_

"Some kids at school were talking about a commercial for a new movie," Katrina said quietly, regretting that she hadn't paid closer attention to the gossip. "Is that what you're talking about?"

"That wasn't a commercial," replied Jazz grimly. "It's for real."

Barricade raised a hand. "Hold that thought until we're inside and dry. The last thing I need to explain tomorrow morning is the sound of rusty joints on a brand new police car."

"Little rain ain't gonna make ya rust."

"This mud's going to ruin my paint job for sure." Sunstreaker stood, a bit shaky on his feet. "Please tell me you've got a washroom."

"It's practically the country, Sunny," Jazz replied. "We live it rough out here."

The yellow mech groaned. "Define rough."

"Hose and car soap," said Katrina, grinning. "If you want help, tomorrow's Saturday and I'll be home all day."

"You're not getting your filthy organic self anywhere near me, you hear? Fingerprints, ugh."

SLAG MECH NO CALL KATRINA-

Katrina clamped a hand over Morse's head, which quieted her friend before he could finish his sentence. "Um, sorry, I think it's way past our bedtime, so see you in the morning. Early." Her nervous smile faded. "I want to know what's going on, okay, Jazz?"

"Sure, Katrina, Ah'll explain first thing tomorrow. Get some rest."

"Good night." Yawning, the girl headed for the house, the three mechs not far behind.

_"What's happened while I was gone? That human has...has..."_

Ahead, Katrina yelped and clutched her head, sinking to her knees.

"You explain," Barricade told Jazz, striding forward and scooping up the human without pausing between steps. "Jazz, is right, you're going to catch a cold."

The girl shook her head, mouth gaping in another yawn she couldn't prevent. "I'm fine." Leaning against the backrest formed by Barricade's fingers, Katrina's worried eyes met his red optics. "What do you think happened to the Autobots?"

Barricade shook his head. Part of him, the last remnant of the old him, hoped that the Decepticons had finally won the long-fought battle between the two factions, but it was a very small part, and Jazz's mention of the Fallen worried him. Megatron was gone, but compared to the Fallen, the Decepticon leader was little more than a thorn in the Autobots' metaphorical side. If that old mech had been reactivated, there would be trouble. He looked down at the human - she'd fallen asleep, waiting for his answer - and frowned. The Fallen cared for other lifeforms even less than Megatron had; Earth itself might be destroyed if that mech was brought from Cybertron. Either the Decepticons had gone crazy since Barricade's desertion, or they were desperate.


	4. The Bearer of Bad News

Been trying to update once a week but it might start being longer... School has completely eaten my life. You public-schoolers who think homeschooling is easy - guess again.

Thanks for reading and reviewing - you letting me know what you think (and pointing out errors) helps me become a better writer. And it makes me happy when they show up in my inbox. ^.^ Thank you very, very much!

___corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"A guardian? Are you serious, Jazz?"_

_ "Nothin' wrong with bein' a guardian, Sunny."_

_ "Never took you for the responsible, down-to-earth guardian type."_

_ "I'm not. That's Barricade's job."_

_ "Hey, how come you're using my nickname and not his?"_

_ "...it's a long story."_

* * *

Chapter Four

The Bearer of Bad News

_ Arms outspread, she soared over the Grand Canyon, laughing when a startled eagle faltered in its killing swoop, allowing its prey to escape death. It was so peaceful up here, nothing but the open sky, reaching forever on. _I could stay up here forever,_ she thought, gazing at the rainbow that hovered over Niagra Falls' crashing waters. Something tugged at her memory, weren't the Falls and Canyon on different sides of the U.S.? Shaking her head, Katrina pushed the idea away and turned her gaze to the sparkling clouds overhead. Wouldn't it be fun to fly through one and come out glittering with diamonds. She headed upward, then winced at a loud screech. The eagle was attacking! No, it wasn't an eagle, metallic claws gripped her arms and red optics met her own frightened eyes..._

WAKE, Morse clicked, tapping his friend's right shoulder while Frenzy poked the girl's right arm.

"Time-to-wake-up-Katrina."

_Every struggle brought fresh pain, and the Decepticon threatened over his comm to break her arms if she didn't hand over the Matrix. The girl shook her aching head, trying to say she didn't know what he was talking about, but the words wouldn't come..._

WAKE.

Groaning, the girl rolled away from her friends' prodding, earning a whistle from Morse as he scurried over the pillow, barely avoiding her head. The shrill noise broke through the dream that was fast becoming a nightmare and Katrina cracked one eyelid, saw Frenzy's face less than a foot away, and scowled. Behind him her nightstand's lamp glowed, fighting the pre-dawn darkness that seeped through the window. _Why did he wake me up this early? _"Go away." She stuffed her head under the pillow and covered her ears.

Frenzy yanked the pillow out of his friend's grasp, rescuing Morse in the process. "Almost-crushed-insect-better-open-eyes-Katrina. Barricade-and-Jazz-say-you-need-to-get-up."

"It's Saturday," the girl moaned, pulling blankets over her head. "Can I please sleep in?"

"Katrina, time t' get up," Jazz said, tapping on the window. "Don't make me come in there. Barricade's shift starts in thirty minutes."

"All right!" Rubbing her eyes, Katrina scrambled out of bed and headed for the door. "Give a minute, would you?" Her clothes felt stiff and the girl wrinkled her nose in disgust when she realized that she was still wearing her dirt-streaked pajamas. "Make that five minutes, I need a shower." Without waiting for someone to protest, Katrina grabbed a change of clothes from her dresser and ran for the bathroom, the headache from yesterday returning. Hot water pounding on her forehead did nothing to sooth the girl's aching temples. She got dressed as quickly as possible before running outside, unable to shake the terrible feeling that something was wrong.

The three mechs were standing in a semi-circle near the house, talking quietly, but their conversation halted as soon as the door opened.

Jazz frowned. "Katrina, ya don't look too good. Did ya catch a cold?"

Sunstreaker took a step back. "If it's sick, keep it away from me, I've seen what kind of mess humans can make when they're ill."

The sun was just peeking over the horizon and shone right in Katrina's eyes, which she tried to shield with a raised hand. "It's just a headache. Anyone comming?"

"Is there anything this human doesn't know?" grumbled the yellow mech.

"I explained 'bout this last night, remember, Sunny?" Jazz sighed. "Sorry, Katrina, we've been tryin' t' contact the others."

From her friend's discouraged tone of voice, Katrina guessed they'd had no luck. "Who's the Fallen, Jazz? Could he have something to do with their disappearance?"

"Most likely," said Barricade. "He'd like nothing more than to wipe the Autobots out, especially Prime."

"Ya better explain what ya mean by that, I never heard of him preferrin' one 'bot over another."

The black mech shrugged. "It's rumored only a Prime can kill him."

Jazz tapped a finger against his chin, then nodded. "That makes sense, since he used t' be one."

"The Fallen's like Optimus?" Katrina gasped, her half-awake brain attempting to create an image of an evil Decepticon using what she remembered of the Autobot leader's face. Shaking her head to dispel the image, she looked to her silver guardian for an explanation.

"If ya look at it that way, so's Megatron, him being Prime's brother and all."

Sunstreaker scowled. "Neither of them are fit to-"

Barricade shot the yellow mech a stern look. "Watch it."

"But how could M-" Something tugged on Katrina's left sock, and as she bent to scoop up Morse, the sound of an engine caught her attention. It was growing louder and the girl straightened to see a plume of dust racing down the road. "Someone's coming, guys, you better transform."

Gears clanked and whirred, leaving three shining vehicles where the mechs had stood, the Mustang and Pontiac both familiar sights to the girl. Her eyes widened at Sunstreaker's altmode, a yellow Lamborghini. _I thought they transformed to blend in,_ she thought, then frowned when Jazz returned to robot form.

"Jazz, are you-"

Sunstreaker and Barricade changed as well, the former looking worried, the latter crossing his arms, his frown even deeper than Katrina's.

"What's _he_ doing here?"

The dust cloud finally cleared to reveal the car inside. Katrina gulped, taking a step back, crashing into Frenzy, who'd been standing behind the girl. In the time it took them to untangle themselves and stand, the car reached the driveway, skidded to a halt, and transformed.

"Next time you change your address, let me know, I drove around that town sixty three times before someone gave me directions to this place."

"It's good t' see ya, too, Prowler," said Jazz, his cheerful tone becoming serious as he added, "Where's everyone else?"

"Taking Prime's body to Egypt."

_Body?_ Katrina felt like she couldn't breathe. _Optimus is dead?_ Numbing ice raced through her veins as the girl stared blankly at Prowl, a roaring noise in her ears preventing her from hearing the rest of the conversation. _He can't be dead. If he was, they'd have me bring him back. Right?_ Her own words from the year before echoed in her mind. "_I don't want to have anything more to do with the Autobots..."_

"Why the frag didn't ya contact me? Ah should be-"

Barricade clamped a firm hand over Jazz's mouth. "Silence." He nodded to Prowl. "Continue."

"If Witwicky fails in reviving Prime, we must protect the human femme at all costs."

"No!" Katrina screamed, covering her ears. _This can't be happening._ "No!" The girl spun around and dashed through the doorway, kicking the door shut. Morse, dislodged by her sudden movement, landed on the ground, clicking with distress.

Frenzy yanked on the doorknob – it was locked. "Katrina-come-back-unlock-the-door."

"Katrina?" Barricade bent down, peering through the living room window. No sign of the girl. He straightened and turned to Prowl. "Did you have to share that particular bit of news in her presence?"

"I merely stated the facts," Prowl said calmly. "Humans have a habit of overreacting."

"I'll show you some overreacting," the Neutral growled, hands becoming cannons.

It was Jazz's turn to intervene. "Hold it, Barricade. Prowl, spill the beans, all of them. What happened t' Prime, what's the Witwicky kid got t'do with it, and what's this I hear 'bout the Fallen returnin'?"

"The AllSpark shard was stolen from the humans' base. Then a government official named Galloway..."

Inside, Katrina curled up in a corner of the living room, tears streaming down her face. "It's not my fault he died. It can't be my fault." _But I chose not to stay. If I had stayed, Prime would still be alive. So it_ is_ my fault that...that the Fallen will..._ She couldn't bear to finish the thought. Outside Prowl was still speaking, and the girl tried to shut out his voice, but her pounding headache seemed to be magnifying all sounds - Frenzy's attempts to pick the door's lock, Morse tapping on the window, the mechs' conversation. A word caught her attention, and the blood drained from her face. _Him? No way._ Wiping away tears, the girl hurried to the front door, stepping aside as Frenzy collapsed on the floor when the door suddenly opened. Katrina raced down the steps. "Prowl!"

"No need to shout, I have better hearing than-"

Katrina interrupted him midsentence, speaking through clenched teeth. "Did you mention Galloway?"

Jazz and Barricade shared a glance, neither liking the cold look their charge wore.

"Katrina, Ah know yer upset-"

"Did Galloway have something to do with the Autobots leaving their base?"

Prowl blinked. "Yes, he terminated NEST, but how could you know that?"

"D'ya know this Galloway fellow?" asked Jazz, crouching so his face was level with the girl's.

Katrina nodded, folding her arms. "And I'll bet your next ten energon rations that he wants the Autobots to leave Earth."

"That is what he was in the midst of organizing before Lennox's team hijacked the jet," Prowl said. "I believe they left him stranded in the middle of an Egyptian desert."

Egypt. Where they were taking Optimus's body. The girl squeezed her eyes shut, too depressed to take pleasure in Galloway's less than fortunate situation. "Why didn't you ask Jazz to bring me to NEST?"

"You wish to live a normal life, and Prime always said choice was the right of all sentient beings. He would not have wanted us to force you to use the AllSpark's power against your will."

Katrina glared at him, eyes blurry with tears. "But I-"

"There was also no time. It is fortunate that I was not on base at the time when Galloway arrived to take over; Ironhide commed me and asked that I come here."

"They're all over there, slaggin' Cons, and no way for us t' reach them in time t' help." Jazz slammed a fist on the ground, sending dirt flying everywhere. "Ya should've commed me at the first hint of trouble. When did ya learn the shard was taken?"

"Three days ago, the same time Galloway made his first move. Prime visited Sam, asked him for help, but Sam refused, then was attacked the next day by a Decepticon Pretender. He and Mikaela managed to destroy the Pretender, but Megatron captured them soon after. During their escape Prime was killed."

"That's not good," said Barricade.

"Ya got glitched processors? 'Course it's not good!"

"Where's Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker demanded. "Is he with the others?"

"You will be more help to him here than trying to swim the Atlantic," Prowl replied.

Sunstreaker took a step forward, clenching his hands. "I'm not letting my twin fight alone."

Barricade and Jazz each grabbed one of the yellow mech's shoulders. He angrily shook off the Neutral's grip, but Jazz managed to hang on, despite being a good head shorter than Sunstreaker.

"Prowler's right, if the 'Cons win, Katrina'll be their next target."

"Like I care if a stupid organic dies. Those wounds I had? Tangled with a few stragglers of the war party Starscream was leading here. The main group must have been over thirty mechs. They're going to need all the help they can get!"

"A lot of brave humans are fighting with them," Prowl said. "By the time you found a way to Egypt, the battle would be over. If I must, I will order you to remain here."

"Did you say Sam was with them?" asked Katrina, sorting through the onslaught of information. "Shouldn't he be in college?"

"Part of the AllSpark appears to be residing in his brain, which is why Megatron wanted him. Witwicky holds the key to finding the Matrix of Leadership, which is itself the key to Earth's salvation or destruction."

_The Matrix?_ Something rang a bell in her head, but Katrina couldn't remember where she'd heard the term before. "I don't understand." _How could Sam have the AllSpark's power?_

"Witwicky thinks that he can revive Prime using the Matrix, but the Fallen wants it for a more sinister purpose... Are you ill?"

Katrina clutched her head, grimacing. Her headache had suddenly gotten much worse. It felt like many comms were being used at once, but no words came through, just pain. "Hurts..."

"Katrina?" Jazz's concerned voice was the last thing the girl heard before she blacked out, the horrible ache fading away to nothingness.


	5. Undisclosed Information

Writer's block has been dangling overhead for the past couple weeks, reinforced by rabid plotbunnies. So I'm dropping to biweekly updates for the moment. Please don't bring out the torches...

Thanks as always for your kind reviews. I really appreciate them!

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"...this is an open-comm message to all Autobots from Optimus Prime. We're coming home."_

_ "Did ya hear that?"_

_ "Hear what?"_

_ "Apparently you do not have the Autobot comm code-"_

_ "I have no need for it. If something is important, Jazz lets me know."_

_ "Prime's alive and kickin', but we lost some guy named Jetfire and Megatron has returned."_

_ "The name Jetfire sounds familiar."_

_ "Prowler, ya know anythin' 'bout him?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Spill it!"_

* * *

Chapter Five

Undisclosed Information

Gasping, Katrina sat up, shaking her head. Cold water droplets flew through the air and she rubbed her face vigorously with a corner of her shirt. Clicking came from her lap and Frenzy chattered in her ear, meaningless noise that slowly became words.

"-news-from-Egypt," the little mech was saying, and Morse repeated NEWS over and over. Katrina covered her ears and the sounds stopped, her friends giving her anxious looks.

"Should-I-splash-more-water?" Frenzy held up a plastic bucket, its liquid contents sloshing over the sides.

"No, don't," Katrina said, raising both hands. "I already had a shower today." Touching her temples, which no longer ached, she asked, "What happened?" The girl felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders and replaced with the weightless sense of peace.

"You-fainted-and-Jazz-made-me-carry-you-in-and-dump-cold-water-on-your-face. Why-are-you-smiling?"

The smile vanished and Katrina stood. "I don't know. You said there was news? From Egypt?" _That's where they took Optimus..._

Both mechs nodded and Frenzy grabbed the girl's wrist, tugging her toward the door. "Come-come-come-Barricade-waiting-for-you-to-hear-news-before-leaving."

Katrina allowed herself to be dragged outside, Morse back to his normal perch on her shoulder.

"Feelin' better?" Jazz asked, concerned by the girl's damp face. Had she been crying or was that residue from Frenzy's awakening attempt?

She shrugged. "I was but...never mind. What's the news?" Holding her breath, Katrina could feel her heart racing, despite the strange feeling of peace still hanging about. _Could it be possible?_

Prowl actually smiled. "We just received word from Optimus Prime. The Fallen is dead. They are coming home."

Katrina closed her eyes, feeling the tears returning. _Sam did it. The Matrix brought back Optimus. Thank Primus._ "Is everyone all right?"

"The humans have many casualties, the Autobots none, though everyone needs major repairs."

Jazz made a slight noise, like he was about to say something, then changed his mind. Katrina's relieved smile became a slight frown and she glanced from one Autobot to the other."What aren't you telling me?"

"Megatron, Starscream and a lotta 'Cons are still on the loose," said Jazz.

She shook her head. "That's not it."

"Shall I tell her?" Barricade snapped.

Jazz gave the black mech a sharp look. "It's nothin' for ya t' worry 'bout, Katrina."

"It would be best if the human came to NEST," Prowl said, switching subjects before the argument could escalate. "We can protect-"

Katrina took a step toward the house, shaking her head hard enough that hair tucked behind her ears slid down to cover her alarmed expression. Brushing the brown strands aside, she clenched her teeth and glared at the black and white Autobot. "I'm not going anywhere near the military, especially not if Galloway's still around."

A soft vent of air preceded Prowl's next words. "I will inform Prime of your decision."

"No, I will." Jazz sighed when Katrina's face fell. "Sorry, Katrina, but Ah need t' go with Prowl. Prime's orders. I'll try t' be back soon."

"Acknowledged." The girl slammed the front door, leaving the four mechs in an awkward silence. Frenzy jiggled the door handle, but Katrina had locked it. He looked to Barricade for instructions.

"We're late," the Neutral growled, transforming. His sidekick scampered across the yard and jumped through the driver's window, then the police cruiser took off down the road, raising a thick cloud of dust that followed him toward town.

Sunstreaker stared at the house, optics wide open. "Are all humans so...reactive?"

"Katrina's had a rough life," Jazz said quietly. "Don't ask for details, she doesn't like t' talk 'bout it." The silver mech sighed again. "Prowler, Ah'm not goin'. Tell Prime Ah'm sorry but Katrina's been actin' strange since Sunny arrived and Ah'm worried."

Sunstreaker scowled. "Don't blame me for your pet's problems and stop calling me Sunny!"

Jazz fixed the yellow mech with a dark look much different from his usual friendly expression. "Ah'll start callin' ya Sunshine if ya ever refer t' Katrina as a 'pet' again, but I'm not blamin' ya."

"This is no time to argue," Prowl interrupted, running a quick scan on the yellow Autobot. Satisfied with the results he gave the two mechs a short nod. "I will give your regards to Prime, Jazz. Sunstreaker, you will stay as well, since you do not appear to require medical attention."

"What? No!"

"If Prime can spare him, I will send Sideswipe out to help, but I want at least one mech near the human every minute of the day, and Jazz cannot do it alone. With the Decepticons in hiding, we cannot predict when or where they will attack next."

"If the organic doesn't want to help the Autobots, why bother protecting her? Besides, Jazz has the 'Con to help. Why leave me here?"

"Do not question Prime's decision on the matter. Your presence is required because you are the best fighter we have available on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Jazz, you are in charge, understand? Keep Barricade in line; Neutral or not, I don't trust him completely, but he has chosen to be the human's guardian, so we must give him the benefit of the doubt. Sunstreaker, I do not care if you have a personal grudge against him, you may not start any fights."

"Can I end them?" The yellow mech quailed under Prowl's stern stare. "All right, I won't do anything unless he does."

"Wish Ah coulda met the old mech we lost," Jazz murmured, contemplating the news they'd received.

Prowl nodded in agreement. "As do I. Jetfire will be remembered for all of Autobot history."

Sunstreaker cocked his head. "Your p-I mean, the human brought you back, Jazz, why not have her do the same for Jetfire?"

Jazz glanced toward the house, then lowered his voice until his companions had to strain their audio processors to hear him. "Don't ya dare tell Katrina, but Ratchet's been keepin' an eye on her through me, and he thinks the power might be harmin' her when she uses it."

"Harming her in what way?" Sunstreaker didn't feel guilty about the human using her power on him – after all, he hadn't asked for it – but he made a mental note to avoid her in the future if he happened to be injured. The look Jazz had just given him was enough to freeze processors.

Prowl narrowed his optics. "Why was I not informed of this?"

"Ah haven't even told 'Cade yet," Jazz replied, taking advantage of the Neutral's absence to use the hated nickname. "Ratchet agreed t' keep it a secret until he can get some real proof - all he's got now is a few abnormalities in the scans he ran last year, and nothin' shows up in the basic scans Ah've run since then."

Bored, Sunstreaker vented air and asked the obvious question. "How'd she get the power in the first place?"

"We do not know." Prowl's calm blue gaze hid the flicker of worry lurking deep in his spark. "Secretary Keller has made a few discreet investigations and could find little information. Simmons has insisted he knows nothing about it, and, being a citizen, he cannot be forced to talk."

"Not t' mention he wouldn't talk t' us even if he did know somethin', after we got his precious Sector Seven disbanded."

"He seems to be on slightly better relations with us now," Prowl amended. "He did aid the others in Egypt."

"With the Fallen gone, how bad _is_ the situation?" asked Sunstreaker.

"Still bad enough that protection of those important to us is highest priority," Prowl said firmly. "Primus be with you."

"'Til all are one," Sunstreaker and Jazz chorused.

Prowl transformed and left without further ceremony, already planning the quickest route to NEST that wouldn't break any traffic laws.

Sunstreaker turned to his fellow Autobot, a pleading look on his face. "Since I'm going to be stuck here for the next few orns, please tell me there's a place where I can buy paint on this backward planet."

Jazz nodded. "There's a hardware store a few miles away, should have everythin' ya need. C'mon, Ah'll show ya 'round town. Ya can run a hologram in altmode, right?"

* * *

Katrina stormed about the kitchen, slamming cupboard doors in her search for breakfast and as a way to let off some steam. Nothing looked appetizing. On the counter, Morse scuttled back and forth, clicking at his friend, but she ignored him, not wanting to talk. Instead she grumbled aloud, punctuating each statement with the crash of another door.

"Can't believe they didn't call for me." Bang. "What on Earth were they thinking?" Bang. "The last Prime dies and they don't even let us know until he's halfway across the world." Bang. "And Jazz just got back and he already has to leave again." Bang. "Some guardian." Katrina snatched a box of cereal from the cupboard shelf before slamming the door shut in a loud finale to her rant.

Waving his legs, Morse tried to get her attention. KATRI-

"What?" the girl snapped, dropping the cardboard box on the counter. She yanked open the fridge door and grabbed a jug of milk, which found itself thrown at the countertop. It struck the edge, sheer momentum tipping the jug over to land safely on its side while the little spider jumped back to avoid being crushed. "Do you think I should have gone with him?" Katrina demanded of her friend, shutting the fridge. She grabbed a bowl from another cupboard and slammed it down next to the milk without paying attention to the counter beneath, earning a shrill whistle of protest from Morse as he barely escaped danger for the third time that morning.

CALM DOWN, he scolded in sharp clicks, skittering away from the dangerous area of the counter.

"Sorry," sighed Katrina, moving more carefully as she fixed herself breakfast. Milk sloshed over sugary flakes and the girl dug her spoon in before she'd even sat down, taking a large bite. Crunchy sweetness filled her mouth and after a few more spoonfuls, she began to relax. "What is it, Morse?" she asked, taking another bite.

JAZZ GONE.

"What?" the girl gasped. Half-chewed cereal fell into her bowl and milk trickled off her chin to make dark lines on her shirt, but she didn't notice. "Already?" Blinking back tears, Katrina set down her cereal, appetite gone. "Prowl, too?"

YES.

"Without saying good-bye?"

The insect bobbed his head.

"I was really rude to them, wasn't I?"

More nodding, and the girl stood, holding out her hand. "Would you please contact him?"

Without a single click, Morse transformed and Katrina picked up the cell phone just as it began ringing. "Hi, Jazz? Listen, I'm sorry-"

_"Sorry, is this the Cades' place?"_ asked a feminine voice, definitely not belonging to her guardian.

_Who on Earth could be calling?_ "Yes, it is. Who is this?"

_"I'm Casey, a friend of Katrina's. Is she home?"_

"She's speaking," Katrina said, rolling her eyes. "Who are you?"

_"I'm Casey,"_ the girl repeated. _"Casey Windon from your Art class? Some friends and I are having a sleepover tonight and we were wondering if you'd like to come. I hope it isn't too last minute for you..."_

Morse started beeping. GO. GO.

_"Is something wrong with your phone?"_

Katrina flinched and gave her friend a small, warning squeeze. "What? Oh, no, I don't think so. Could I call you back? I need to ask my uncle if it's all right." What she really wanted to do was turn the offer down, but Morse wouldn't let her hear the end of it for the rest of the weekend and when Barricade found out, he might join the spider and Jazz in insisting that she 'make some friends'. _The last thing I need is _three_ people on my case. No, four, because Frenzy follows Barricade. Usually._

_ "Sure, no problem. Got pen and paper?"_

"Huh?"

_ "You're going to need to know my number in order to call me,"_ Casey said in a slow, patient voice.

"Mo-my phone recorded it."

_ "Cool. Must be a new model, my old one's got next to nil for neat functions. Talk to you soon."_

"Good-bye."

Morse clicked, then beeped and made a ringing noise. A second later, Jazz answered.

_ "Morse?"_

"No, it's me, but I need to talk to Barricade. Oh, wait," Katrina added when the Autobot started to say good-bye. Plucking at milk stain on her shirt, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

_"For what?_"

"Overreacting when Prowl suggested I go to your base."

_"Hey, don't worry 'bout it. It's not like ya got any good memories of the government."_

The girl gritted her teeth. _You have no idea, Jazz._ "Say hi to everyone for me, please?"

_"What're ya talkin' 'bout? Ah'm not goin' t' the base for a while. Prowler changed his mind and Sunny and I are gonna make sure any 'Cons that come 'round here don't return for seconds."_

A smile spread across Katrina's face. "I'm glad. Why is Sunny staying, though? You don't need three mechs-" Morse gave a loud beep of protest "-five if you count Frenzy and Morse, to protect me."

_"'Cause Barricade's got a job t' do and Ah can't watch ya on my own all day."_

"Morse is always with me. He'd contact you if there was trouble."'

_"But who's gonna be near enough t' get there in time? A bot's gotta recharge."_

"Understood."

_"Now what's so important that ya need t' bother Barricade while he's workin'?"_

"Some girl from school called and asked if I wanted to come over for a sleepover."

_"Sounds good t' me. Where and what time?"_

_Great, now I can't decline._ Katrina bit back a sigh and shrugged, then remembering she was communicating via telephone and there was no way Jazz could see the movement. "I'll call her and find out."

_"Don't forget t' pack yer toothbrush."_

Katrina laughed. "I won't."

_"Uh-oh, Sunny's arguing with the paint guy, Ah better go. See ya soon."_

Morse began ringing again as he contacted Casey's cell phone.

_"Katrina?"_

_Does she always sound so cheerful?_ Katrina wondered. "My uncle said it was fine, when do I need to get there?"

_"Mom said she'll pick you up if you want."_

"No, J-er, my uncle said he can drop me off."

_"Okay. The address is 23 Highneck Road. Big red house, you can't miss it. Any time after noon is fine, and pick up is around ten tomorrow. Got it?"_

"Yes. See you there." Katrina hesitated. "Thank you for inviting me."

_"It's going to be a lot of fun! By the way, would you mind bringing your phone? One of my friends is a technogeek whose specialty is phones."_

The strange request raised her eyebrows, but after a moment's consideration, Katrina nodded. "Okay, I will."

_"See you soon!"_ A click signaled that Casey had hung up, and Morse returned to spider mode and scurried onto his friend's shoulder.

GOOD, he chirped, rubbing his head against her cheek. WE HAVE FUN.

"You have to stay as a phone all night," the girl reminded him. "No one's supposed to know what you and the others are."

I KNOW. HAVE FUN.

"I hope you're right," she muttered, heading upstairs to pack, her breakfast forgotten on the table. _It's strange she asked me to bring my phone. Could they suspect something?_ Shaking her head at her own paranoia, Katrina pushed a twinge of worry aside and began hunting for her duffel bag. "What do you suppose they do at a sleepover?"


	6. Reports and Rumors

Right on schedule! Only because I stayed up past 10pm last night... Good thing my parents sleep on the second floor, and I'm on the first.

Thanks for reading and reviewing, I appreciate both more than you can imagine.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Barricade?"_

_ "This better be important, Jazz, I am _working._"_

_ "Thought ya might wanna know Katrina's got a sleepover planned."_

_ "I knew nothing of this."_

_ "The girl who invited her contacted her 'bout five minutes ago. Told her it's fine with me."_

_ "Slag it, Jazz, Megatron's back and probably looking for anyone who's the least bit vulnerable. Now is _not_ the time for-what was that word again?"_

_ "Sleepover. Google it. Apparently the point of the gatherin' is t' not get any sleep and watch scary movies while eatin' foods with high sugar and fat content."_

_ "You think this is a good idea? She should have said she was busy."_

_ "She needs t' have contact with other humans once in a while, and if Prowler's right, she'll need t' move t' NEST's base soon. This could be her last chance t' be a normal kid for a long time."_

_ "...very well. Have you decided how to broach that topic with her?"_

_ "Not yet."_

_ "She will not take it well, you know."_

_ "I know. But we haven't got a choice, do we?"_

* * *

Chapter Six

Reports and Rumors

Time seemed to creep by that day. No further word came from Optimus, Prowl, or anyone else. Katrina paced back and forth in the living room, the television blaring out the local news channel and its regular commercials. Nothing of interest had turned up in the past few hours, but the girl refused to give up her vigilant post, hoping that against all odds there might be something about the recent battle. No such luck. The military had cracked down, completely obliterating any mention of the strange events that had taken place.

"Should've paid closer attention to the news," she muttered, slumping onto the couch near the arm Morse perched upon. "Maybe if we'd had a warning of some kind, I could have..." Katrina trailed off and scooped up her friend, holding him close. The spider didn't protest, recognizing the girl's need for physical comfort.

OK, he clicked, blue optics brightening. ALL OK.

"That's just it, Morse." The girl punched random buttons on the TV remote, listening to the different voices with half an ear. "They didn't tell me the truth, not all of it. Something happened that they don't want me to know about. It's not fair, they're treating me like a kid." _Sam's not that much older, yet he gets alerted at the first sign of trouble, then refuses to help and gets Prime killed and _still_ manages to save the day._ A small voice in the back of her head pointed out that she had chosen to avoid the Autobots, but the jealous part of her overwhelmed it. _It's not fair. I could have brought Prime back without them having to waste time going to Egypt._

ARE KID.

Thoughts interrupted, it took Katrina a moment to process her friend's words. Once she had, the girl glared at the spider, then turned her frown on the television and began flipping channels at a mad rate, snatches of conversation blaring out of the speakers at varying noise levels.

_"...any information leading to the recovery..."_

_"...guaranteed results within thirty days..."_

_ "...flood waters so high, the streets were submerged..."_

"_...mysterious break-in at Museum of..."_

_ "...awarded the gold trophy for..."_

_ "...gas prices rising again due to..."_

BACK.

Finger pressed on the mute button, Katrina glanced down at her friend. "What?"

GO BACK, Morse chirped, trying to convey urgency. He succeeded, and the girl flipped back a channel, then another at his request, before returning the sound.

_"...two security guards were not at their posts during the time of the robbery, having been knocked unconscious by the unknown thieves, who managed to steal an SR-71 Blackbird and damage several other displays. What the purpose of this was – whether a practical joke gone too far, or for a more sinister reason – is unknown. The FBI is investigating. If you have any information..."_

Muting the television, Katrina jumped to her feet, punching the air in victory. Finally, her vigilance had paid off, with a little help from the spider. "Morse, you did it!"

DID WHAT?

Elated, the girl scooped up her friend and danced in front of the TV, grinning like she had just won the lottery. "That jet wasn't a jet."

KNOW?

"Not for sure," Katrina admitted, stopping to stare at the TV screen, which showed a large hole in one of the museum's buildings before switching back to the reporter. His mouth moved without sound, but Katrina ignored him, turning her gaze toward the window. _Still no sign of Jazz or Sunny. How long does it take to buy a few buckets of paint?_ "Morse, I'll bet anything that jet's disappearance is related to Megatron's return and Optimus's death and everything else."

HOW?

Unsure how to explain the feeling she had – somehow she _knew_ the jet was a key piece to the ever-growing puzzle - the girl shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll also bet that Jazz, Barricade and Sunny do, and one of them is going to tell me."

Morse gave her an incredulous look, and she laughed, patting his head. "I won't ask them outright. I'll figure out some way to work it into the conversation."

Rolling his optics, the spider clicked his objections. BAD IDEA. He didn't have enough legs to count the number of times his friend had tried using that very tactic to learn more about her guardians' pasts, and it always failed.

"Got a better one?" Katrina clenched her hands. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Morse."

_Why does she always include me in her crazy ideas?_ wondered the little spider, venting air.

* * *

"For the last time, I asked for sun yellow, not gold!" Sunstreaker's hologram waved two different paint cards in the service man's face. To an untrained observer, the plaques were exactly the same shade. "This is gold. This is sun yellow, which is the color I want. Got it?"

"Look, man, cool it," Jazz said, brushing his friend aside. He could see that the human waiting on them was becoming impatient, if not outright annoyed the rudeness of his current customer. "We'll take what ya got."

_"I don't want gold!"_ the yellow Autobot commed.

_"It'll go well with Sides's colorin'. Silver and gold, like the human song."_

_ "What on Cybertron are you talking about?"_

_ "Google it if ya can't wait for me t' explain later."_

"Excuse me?" said the man behind the counter, plunking down two cans of paint, their contents splashing against the tamped down covers. "Is this color satisfactory?"

Sunstreaker prodded the streak of yellow on one can's lid and opened his mouth, but Jazz elbowed him in the ribs and snatched the cans before his companion could protest. "It'll do, thanks. C'mon, Sunny."

Muttering a sarcastic, "Have a nice day," the service man glared down at the multitude of rejected paint cans sitting on and behind the counter. "Now what am I supposed to do with all this?"

"That'll be forty seven thirty six," said the cashier after ringing up the paint, brushes and other supplies Sunstreaker had gathered. He gave her a blank look, then turned to Jazz for guidance.

_"What is a forty seven thirty six?"_

_ "Use yer head. Did ya think ya could take this stuff without payin' for it?"_

_ "I don't have any of the local currency."_

The woman's fingers drummed on the scanner. "Are you two going to glare at each other until I call security, or is one of you going to pay for this?"

"Here." Jazz handed her a credit card he'd borrowed from Barricade a few months ago and never remembered to return. Hopefully it hadn't reached its limit yet – he didn't use it often, but Katrina had to eat something other than take-out, and groceries were expensive.

After swiping the card with no problem, the cashier handed over receipt and the paint cans, which Sunstreaker grabbed eagerly, despite the displeased look on his face. "Let's get out of here."

Jazz's hologram dashed after the yellow Autobot's, forgetting the credit card in his haste. Fortunately, the cashier was a fast runner and managed to catch up with him.

* * *

Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn.

Morse's head swiveled from left to right, following his friend's movements. She'd eaten lunch fifteen minutes ago, and still no sign of Jazz, so Katrina had returned to pacing. The spider was getting dizzy from the constant movement back and forth.

STOP.

"What?" The girl glanced at her friend, eyebrows raised. "Sorry, Morse. I missed that."

CALM DOWN.

"Of course I'm calm. I'm about to go on my first sleepover ever. Why wouldn't I be calm?" There was a faint note of hysteria in Katrina's voice, and Morse jabbed a leg in the direction of the couch, giving a firm click as he did so. Understanding the spider's command, Katrina sat down and began drumming her fingers on her knees. "When do you think Jazz will get home?"

SOON.

The girl gave a short hum of agreement, then stood and resumed pacing, eyes glued to the driveway and the road beyond. This was ridiculous. She'd spent a good portion of her life in a strict environment, where one did as one was told and stayed quiet as much as possible, and she had survived being captured by Decepticons, but her heartbeat increased every time she thought of the upcoming sleepover. "This is stupid," Katrina complained, dropping onto the couch, its springs protesting the rough treatment. "You're right, Morse, I'm not calm."

Two engines roared in unison outside, and the girl jumped to her feet, dashing for the front door. Jazz's hologram opened it as she entered the hallway, and Katrina slid to a stop on the hardwood floor. Skittering noises warned of Morse's approach a second before he slammed into the girl's left foot, unable to stop in time.

HATE WOOD, he complained, and his friend picked him up, then set him on her shoulder.

"Don't run," she told him, and turned to Jazz. "We were wondering when you were going to get back. Did you find the paint he wanted?"

"They gave me gold, not sun yellow." Sunny's hologram appeared behind Jazz's, startling Katrina. Barricade's hologram was a perfunctory image he hadn't bothered to refine, and Jazz's wasn't much different, but the yellow Autobot liked to look his best in all forms. From her limited knowledge of movie stars, Katrina was pretty sure Sunny had borrowed several actors' looks and mixed them together to form a tall, muscular blond man in his mid-twenties.

"When d'ya need t' get t' yer sleepover?"

"She said sometime after noon, so we can leave anytime."

"Ya have the address, right?"

"23 Highneck Road," Katrina recited, glad she'd committed it to memory. "I'll get my backpack."

"Do I need to come?" Sunny asked.

"No, ya should fix yer paint. Weather forecast is rain tomorrow."

"In that case, I'll be in the garage if you need me." As suddenly as it had appeared, the hologram vanished, and an engine purred to life in the front yard. A second later there was a small crash, and muffled cursing. Peering through the window, Katrina couldn't hold back her laughter – the Lamborghini had tried entering the garage without opening the door, expecting it to be automatic.

"Sunny, ya gotta tell the garage t' open," Jazz yelled, then he stepped inside and closed the door. "All right, get yer stuff. Is Morse goin' with ya?"

"Yes." Still chuckling, the girl raced upstairs and snatched her backpack off her bed. "Phone mode, Morse, and remember, you can't transform while we're there."

GOT IT, he chirped, without any sign of irritation, despite the fact that she'd reminded him at least a dozen times in the past hour alone. He didn't blame her; he was nervous, too, and all he needed to do was sit quietly in her pocket and alert Barricade and Jazz if there was any trouble. _Maybe this sleepover isn't such a good idea_. Despite his sudden doubts, the spider said nothing as his friend headed downstairs.

_"Jazz, the slagging door won't budge!"_ The transmission was loud enough to give Katrina a piercing headache and she doubled over, one hand clutching her left temple, the other clinging to the staircase's railing for support.

"I told ya not t' comm me! Katrina, get in, we'll leave shortly." Jazz's hologram flickered during his last few words, then vanished.

"Okay." Wincing at the lingering pain – no more transmissions had been made, but the one had been more than enough – Katrina stumbled down the last few stairs and headed outside, locking the door on her way. There was nothing valuable inside, but she didn't want a nosy neighbor snooping around.

A small blur of silver shot across the lawn and tackled the girl. "I-coming-too-Barricade-said-so." Frenzy bounced up and down with excitement, drawing a groan from Katrina, whose stomach was being used as a trampoline. "We-have-lots-of-fun."

"Get. Off." Shoving the mech aside, the girl got to her feet and rubbed her side. "That hurt, Frenzy."

"Sorry-Katrina." Frenzy hung his head for a second, then started jittering again. "Are-we-leaving-now?"

"Yes, but if you're coming with us, you'll have to stay in altmode." Katrina tried to resist smiling at the crestfallen look in his face, but didn't quite manage the task. "Don't worry, Frenzy, I'm sure the other girls have never seen such an awesome CD player before."

"Okay-I-stay-in-altmode. Maybe-play-music?"

"Only if someone pushes the play button, understand? If you start playing by yourself, they might get suspicious." _I think at least one of them already is,_ she added to herself, frowning a little. _Asking me to bring Morse like that..._ The girl shook her head. No point worrying about it. Morse and Frenzy understood that they needed to stay undercover. Even if one of the girls did think there was something strange with them, she would have no way to prove it.

"Ya ready, Katrina?" Jazz called, his silver altmode pulling to a stop nearby.

Smiling, Katrina nodded and climbed into the front seat. Frenzy hopped in as well, landing on her lap. He transformed without being told, and Morse followed suit. Cell phone in her pocket and backpack by her feet, the girl leaned back and relaxed. _You're going to have fun,_ she promised herself, closing her eyes. They flew open a second later as loud music blasted from her guardian's speakers. Without a complaint, she covered her ears. Once you got used to the noise level, the music was quite good, and Katrina joined Jazz in singing the songs she recognized. Frenzy proved that his speakers were nearly as loud as the Autobot's, and Morse chimed in with chirps and whistles.


	7. Encouraging Start

Well, I've been sick. With a bad cold. For over a week. It completely killed my muse. We're returning to normal, however, and updates should be back to normal.

Thanks for your reviews - seriously, you guys cheered me up when I was really feeling sick from that cold. THANK YOU.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Prime, this is Prowl."_

_ "Where are you?"_

_ "ETA two hours, with bad news."_

_ "She refused to come."_

_ "The blame is mine, I mentioned Galloway and it appears she knew him from before."_

_ "That is unfortunate, but not necessarily the reason for her refusal. From Jazz's reports I have gathered that she doesn't trust the government, and thus would be wary of assenting to join us on a military base."_

_ "I understand, and I do have some good news, for one mech at least. Sunstreaker has returned. I left him to help guard Katrina."_

_ "Good. As soon as Sideswipe's repairs are complete, I will send him to aid his brother."_

_ "Are you sure that is the wisest thing to do? You know how they can be."_

_ "Before he leaves I shall make it clear that the smallest hint of a prank will result in both of them returning here for a brief vacation in the brig before being put on latrine duty with the miscreants Major Lennox is always swearing at."_

* * *

Chapter Seven

Encouraging Start

Red and big didn't begin to describe the house at 23 Highneck Road. An old converted barn surrounded on three sides by apple orchards gone wild and fields covered in stubble, the place was grand enough to earn a whistle from Jazz as the Autobot left the dusty, potholed dirt road for a comparatively smooth gravel driveway.

"Nice digs they got here," he said, parking behind a blue sports car. A garage sat next to the barn, both doors open, two more sports cars – one green, one red – sitting inside. "Ya sure this's the right place? There's no name on the mailbox."

Before Katrina could answer, a girl burst out the front door, waving madly as she dashed across the grass in bare feet. A woman who had to be the girl's mother – same blond hair and large smile – appeared in the doorway, shouting after the girl. "Crystal, at least put some sandals on first, you could catch diseases running around like that."

Jazz opened his front passenger's door, his hologram smiling. "Good luck, Katrina. I'm gonna hit the road."

Taking a deep breath, his charge stepped out, clutching Frenzy's altmode's handle with tense fingers slippery from sweat. She was immediately pounced on by Crystal. Bubbling over with excitement, the girl practically bounced as she grabbed Katrina's backpack from the car floor. "I'm so glad you could make it! Sorry, I'm guessing you were expecting Casey, but she's not here yet, so I'm still the official greeter. Are you her uncle?" The girl beamed at Jazz when he nodded, and gave a small wave. "Hello, Mr. Cade, nice to meet you. Why didn't you bring your cruiser? Or are you not allowed to drive it when off-duty? I suppose it doesn't matter, this is a nice car. What kind is it? Dad's always rambling about cars but I tune him out most of the time so I don't know an engine valve from a tailpipe, or so he says."

"Nice t' meet ya, please call me Jazz," Jazz said, holding out his hand to shake and avoiding Katrina's gaze – that he had been mistaken for Barricade would have them both snickering if he wasn't careful. "I'm kinda in a hurry, so see ya later. Call me if ya need anythin', Katrina, okay?"

"Okay," Katrina said, retrieving her backpack from the other girl's loose grip. She felt a little overwhelmed by Crystal's high spirits and swift speech, but did her best to maintain a calm expression. "Good-bye, Jazz." As the Autobot left, the girl turned to face Crystal. "It's nice to meet you, Crystal. I'm afraid Casey didn't inform me that it was your house the sleepover is taking place."

Crystal started laughing, a reaction Katrina hadn't expected and was unsure how to react to. "You sound like a dictionary," the blond chuckled. "Do you read it for fun, like that crazy genius kid in our math class?"

_What crazy genius kid?_ No one she could recall from her math class seemed to fit that description._ Maybe I do spend too much time talking with Morse in class._ Frowning, Katrina shook her head. "I don't know who you're...talking about, but I don't read the dictionary."

"Obviously your sense of humor needs work." Rolling her eyes, Crystal snatched the backpack and ran for the house. Upon reaching the front door she called over her shoulder, "Hurry up, Katrina, we haven't got all day. The others'll be here soon and I haven't finished cleaning my room, and Mom said if I didn't finish cleaning it, I would have to cancel the sleepover, which would suck, since Casey's parents are going away and she won't any place to stay and will have to camp outside in the tree house and it's supposed to rain tonight, which will make for wet camping and Casey catches colds easily. So I need to clean my room."

_How does she talk so fast without having to stop for a breath?_ Katrina wondered. _She's almost as hard to understand as Frenzy._ Jazz had once mentioned an Autobot who spoke in the same manner. _What was his name? Bluestreak? Blurr?_ She couldn't remember.

Seeing that her guest hadn't moved an inch, Crystal dropped the backpack on the floor by the door and dashed down the steps again, accompanied by groans and entreaties from her mother, who continued waving sandals in the air. "Yeah, Mom, give me a minute. Earth to Katrina, you still here?"

Flinching back, the girl relaxed when she realized it was only a hand being waved in front of her face. Ignoring Crystal's puzzled expression at her reaction, Katrina apologized. "Sorry, I was thinking."

"Thinking about what? I think about a lot of things. Like whether Mom's ever going to stop telling me to wear shoes when she knows I don't like them, or if it's going to rain like they said it will, or whether the boys at school think I'm cute or not." Crystal twirled in the grass, blond hair floating out in a cloud. "What do you think? I didn't put any makeup on because we're all going to give each other makeovers and Rachel – she wants to be a beautician – doesn't like it when she has to remove makeup before putting more on. You didn't wear makeup, did you?"

"I don't wear makeup." Katrina stopped herself from adding that the only time she'd worn it had been to a large government party and she had hated every minute of it. There was something horrid about the feel of powder on her cheeks and lipstick on her mouth, but the girl decided now would not be a good time to mention that. _I'm supposed to have fun doing what girls my age do,_ she reminded herself. _Even if that means wearing makeup._

"What, not ever?"

Deciding a white lie would be better than the truth right then, Katrina said, "My uncle doesn't like it." Frenzy vibrated softly in her hand, keeping his promise to stay in altmode but unable to hold in his laughter. The girl tightened her grip on him and he stopped; she hoped the other girl hadn't noticed the faint movement.

"Jazz doesn't? I'm surprised, he didn't look like someone who would mind a little makeup. Speaking of your uncle, why didn't he bring his cruiser? And do you know what kind of car he has?"

"Pontiac Solstice, and the cruiser belongs to my other uncle," Katrina explained.

"You have two uncles? Lucky! All I've got are aunts, two on each side, and none of them are married, so I only have second cousins and great-aunts and great-uncles. Do you have any great-aunts or great-uncles? What about cousins? Is either of your uncles married?"

"No, no, and no." Katrina was saved from further onslaught of questions by the arrival of a large red van that creaked and groaned as it came to rest in the driveway. It proved a suitable distraction. While Crystal scurried to welcome another of her friends, Katrina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So far, so good. Frenzy and Morse were behaving themselves, Crystal seemed nice enough when she wasn't jumping from topic to topic so fast one couldn't follow along, and the threat of makeup was something she could deal with later. All in all, everything was going well.

Morse started ringing.

_Uh oh_. Katrina snatched him from her pocket, with a quick glance at Crystal – who was leaning into the red van through one window, apparently talking to the driver – and answered. "Frenzy, now is not the time," she whispered.

_"Do you always answer your phone that way?"_

Biting back a groan, the girl answered Casey's question. "Sorry, no, I thought...never mind. Why are you calling me?"

_"Are you at Crystal's yet?"_

"Yes, why?" Katrina felt a faint stirring of unease in her stomach. She was almost certain she knew exactly why Casey had asked the question, a feeling that grew when Casey sneezed.

_"I came down with a cold this morning and Mom says I can't come over,"_ the girl explained, sneezing again. _"She's even made Dad cancel their trip. Could you tell Crystal I'm sorry?"_

"You could tell her yourself," Katrina offered, not that she wanted to put Morse in someone else's hands, but it would be better than playing messenger between two girls who she barely knew. After all, Casey had invited her, and while Crystal had shown no annoyance about that, she might become irritated if it turned out Casey would not be coming. _Maybe I should call Jazz and have him pick me up. This is getting too complicated for me._

_"Oh, thanks!"_

No choice now. Katrina trudged over to the red van and held Morse out to Crystal. "Casey wants to speak with you."

A flicker of surprise, followed by worry, passed across the other girl's face, but she accepted the cell phone without complaint and spoke a cheerful "Hi, Casey!" into the mouthpiece. Her smile remained as the conversation continued, though it grew a bit strained toward the end. "Yes... Okay... I see... Sure, no problem... Okay... Okay... 'Bye." Flipping Morse closed with a firm snap that made Katrina wince, Crystal returned the cell phone and stuck her head into the van again. "Casey won't make it, she's sick."

"That's okay." The girl who hopped out of the van once Crystal had withdrawn a bit didn't smile when her dark brown eyes met Katrina's purple ones, but she did give a slight nod and held out her hand. "You must be Katrina. I'm Sarah. Nice phone you've got there. Could I take a look at it?"

"Get your crap out of my van first," grumbled the teenage boy sitting in the driver's seat. "I'm already late. They're going to start without me."

"Hold your drumsticks," Sarah said, letting her hand drop before Katrina could grasp it. Turning, she tucked her brown hair behind one ear and pulled two bulging backpacks from the van. "Thanks for the lift."

"Whatever," muttered the boy. Katrina guessed he was Sarah's older brother; there was a definite family resemblance.

After slamming the van's sliding door shut, Sarah moved away from it quickly, Crystal and Katrina following suit. Sarah's brother revved the engine, then tore out of the driveway, spraying the girls with gravel. Wincing at the tiny pebbles' bite, Katrina did her best to protect Morse and Frenzy from the brief rain.

"Jerk," Sarah spit after the retreating van. She slung one backpack over her left shoulder and carried the other in her right hand, like a handbag. "Where's your stuff, Katrina? Already inside? Got any other cool gadgets like the phone? I don't recognize that model..."

"It's experimental, I bet," Crystal put in. "Right, Katrina? Your Uncle Jazz must be really rich to afford something like that."

"I guess," Katrina said, habit keeping her face straight, though she wanted to smile with relief and mirth. Crystal had no idea how close she was to the truth. "My backpack's inside." Something was nagging her, and she glanced down the road – the van was already gone, even its dust trail settled, but there was something familiar about it. Morse vibrated in her right hand, sending a message in the usual code, and she had no need for him to finish it. That was the van driven by the bank robbers Barricade had caught. Was Sarah related to those teens? She hadn't recognized the boy driving it today, but she hadn't gotten a close look at the teens that day.

"Recognize the van?" Sarah asked, a faint hint of bitterness in her voice. "Seems everyone does. My stupid cousin borrowed it. He's in jail now."

"I'm so sorry, that must be awful," Crystal gushed, sympathy flooding her face.

"My uncle is the one who caught them," said Katrina, immediately regretting her words.

Sarah didn't seem to mind, though. In fact, she brightened. "Officer Cade's your uncle? Could you thank him for me? Now that my cousin's out of the house, I can use the spare room for my workshop again."

"Okay," Katrina agreed, deciding it wouldn't do any harm to pass on the message. Her guardian would probably laugh.

"Girls, come inside and help make the pizza," Crystal's mother called. "Rachel's on her way, she'll be here in a few minutes."

"Casey's not coming," Crystal yelled back, then she headed for the house. "Last one in gets anchovies on their pizza."

Sarah took off after her friend with a shout of indignation, and Katrina let them get ahead, not in the mood for a pointless race. The brunette passed Crystal quickly, despite her heavy load, and Katrina shook her head at the friendly insults they flung back and forth with careless abandon. _I don't really fit in here, do I?_

As if sensing her thoughts, Morse gave a soft vibration, reminding his friend that he was there, and Frenzy let out a quiet burst of music. Smiling, the girl lengthened her stride and reached the house just behind the other two. _Maybe I don't, but I can at least try._


	8. Welcoming Disaster

Yay, right on schedule, despite no internet access at home! (our internet comp is getting repaired... Hoping repairs will be done soon)

Oh, almost forgot my DISCLAIMER: I made up the show "Miraculous Makeovers". Any resemblance, by name or description, to a real TV show is completely coincidential. Please don't sue.

I'll also take a moment right now to add that I still do not own Transformers. Otherwise...  
1) Jazz would not have died in the first live movie  
2) 'Cade would't have vanished halfway through the highway chase scene  
3) 'Cade AND Prowl would have been present in both live movies  
4) ...well, I could keep listing reasons, but you get the idea.  
So, please, please don't sue.

As always, thanks for reviewing! And please feel free to point out any mistakes you notice.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Hey, Barricade, just wanna let ya know Katrina made it t' the place nice and safe, so no need t' worry."_

_ "Do you have a watch posted?"_

_ "Sunny's doing it. Ah mean, Sunstreaker. I suggest ya don't call him Sunny yet."_

_ "You two should take turns watching that house-"_

_ "Mansion, ya mean, this place is huge!"_

_ "Jazz..."_

_ "Yeah, yeah, Ah understand and Ah'm way ahead of ya. Sunny's a few hundred feet down the road and watchin' the place with every sensor he's got. Ah'll relieve him in four hours, then ya can relieve me. Okay?"_

_ "Very well. If there is any trouble, let me know immediately."_

_ "Will do, boss."_

* * *

Chapter Eight

Welcoming Disaster

"Pitch your shoes over there," Crystal said, gesturing in the vague direction of a coat rack surrounded by a mountain of various kinds of footwear.

"Take their things upstairs," her mother said, poking her head out of the kitchen. "Then everyone report to the kitchen with clean hands for pizza duty."

Katrina flinched at the almost military-like order, but she collected her backpack and followed Crystal and Sarah up the carpeted staircase, admiring the house as she went. Its vastness was accented by all the space that had been left. The kitchen, dining room and living room covered the entire first floor with only a half wall separating each part from the other two. Even with a pool table, a huge television, several couches and a dining table large enough to easily seat twenty people, there was so much _space_. If he could get inside, Jazz would be able to stand upright, his head not quite touching the ceiling. Barricade might have a stoop a bit, but he would fit, too. Eyes wide at the thought, Katrina almost tripped when she reached the flying staircase that led to the barn's former hayloft, which had been converted into bedrooms.

Crystal's room was the first on the right, and easily the largest. Setting her backpack and Frenzy down, Katrina tried to hide her amazement. Any doubts of Crystal's family's financial status were gone, and the girl felt a moment's twinge of jealousy while she imagined what living in such a place would be like. _It would be lonely_, she decided, her envy fading away. _This place is too big for one person, or even three. I wonder if Crystal has any siblings?_

The front door slammed shut downstairs and Katrina was not the only one who flinched. Shaking her head, Crystal hurried out of her room, calling, "Rachel, is that you?"

"Ten bucks says that's Rachel," Sarah said, dumping her backpacks on the floor. They clanked, like there was metal instead of clothing inside. Despite wanting to know what the girl had brought, Katrina kept her mouth shut, then realized Sarah was waiting for a reply to her comment.

"I don't bet," she said, remembering the phase Frenzy and Morse had gone through of betting on everything from where a fly would land on a wall or table to how long it would take Katrina to wash the dishes. Considering the number of times she'd had to separate the two before an argument over who was the winner became a fight, it was not surprising the girl had no wish to participate in a bet.

"What, never?" Sarah demanded, an incredulous look on her face. "My brothers do it all the time."

"Fortunately, I don't have any brothers," replied Katrina, hoping she hadn't made a mistake. What if Sarah took offense?

The other girl grinned, and held up a hand. "High five it, you've hit the nail on the head. We're going to be great friends, Kat, I can tell."

Lightly slapping Sarah's hand, Katrina corrected her mistake. "It's Katrina."

"Kat isn't your nickname?"

She shook her head. "I don't have a nickname, and I would prefer it if you called me Katrina."

"Rachel's here!" Crystal yelled a second before two pairs of footsteps dashed up the flying staircase.

Remembering the delicate structure, Katrina couldn't see how anyone could dare run on it, but she didn't hear anything break. _Whoever built that staircase was a genius. Same goes for the decorator,_ she added in the privacy of her mind, surveying Crystal's statues of unicorns lined a small shelf that ran around the room about two feet from the ceiling. A bookshelf and computer desk complete with printer jostled for space on one wall. Across from them was the queen-sized bed, its canopy – thick red velvet tied back with gold ropes – more like something you'd find in an ancient castle than a teen girl's room. Posters of movie stars and singers covered the ceiling and whatever wall space that wasn't taken up by pictures, framed certificates and blue ribbons from horse shows. Two large doors set into the far wall sat in sliders, and Katrina guessed they led to a walk-in closet.

_I wonder how they got the bed up here?_ The girl held back a smile when something else occurred to her upon seeing the ribbons. _If they live in the barn, where do they keep the horses?_

"What do you think?" Crystal had entered the room without the other girl's notice, and Katrina started. "Mom's always saying I need to get rid of some stuff but when I try to give away my books she says I don't read enough and makes me keep them.

"It's...nice," she conceded, shrugging. "Very big."

If the blond was disappointed by her less-than-impressed reaction, she didn't show it, turning immediately to the new arrival, whose black hair hung in a long braid down the back of her green shirt. "Rachel, this is Katrina Cade, Katrina, this is Rachel."

"Is the makeover optional?" Sarah asked from her perch on Crystal's bed, fingers flying across her phone's tiny keyboard. "Mom said if I came home with bleached streaks again, I would be grounded for a year."

"Your mom has no sense of humor," Crystal chuckled, bouncing on her bed and causing her friend to tumble face first into the thick carpet. "You okay, Sarah? I didn't mean to-"

Sitting up, Sarah continued to type on her phone as she reassured her friend. "Don't worry, I'm fine, but you better be glad you didn't break my phone, or you'd have been _dead_. This is a brand-new prototype Dad brought home from work. He let me borrow it to test out the different functions, but if it gets damaged in the process..." She let her voice trail off and made a slashing motion across her throat.

"Oooh," Rachel and Crystal chorused, crowding around to see the device.

Katrina hung back. She had no interest in the phone – Morse was far better than any manmade device, however advanced it might be – and it was painfully clear what good friends the other girls were. _This was a really bad idea, I should just call Jazz and have him pick me up..._

"If you want pizza, you better come make it!" Crystal's mother called, and the phone was abandoned as Crystal, Rachel and Sarah dashed for the door, gathering Katrina on the way.

"I'll show you some of the neat stuff it can do after dinner," Sarah said while they raced down the stairs. "Katrina, does your phone have games on it?"

A soft, indignant quiver in her hand – she was still carrying Morse – made clear the little spider's view on the matter of containing games, and Katrina resisted a smile, tucking him into her pocket. "No, I'm afraid not. Gets a good signal in most places, though," she added, offhand. "What about yours?"

"The signal reception needs work, but there's ten different games and an optional GPS, which, of course, the prototype has." Sarah spoke about the phone nonchalantly, with the barest hint of pride mixed in.

"Is it common for your father to bring home prototypes?" Katrina asked, pausing at the base of the stairs. "That is, I hope you don't mind me asking..."

"He brings stuff home all the time," replied the brunette, tying her brown hair back with a hair elastic that matched her light blue outfit. "Elastic?" She offered, holding out another one.

"Thanks, I didn't think to bring one." Katrina gathered her hair in a loose ponytail, thinking. _So she's used to having 'advanced'_ – Barricade often complained about how primitive Earth technology was, and the girl shared the sentiment to some extent – _technology around... Maybe she'd be interested in the Autobots, if she knew they existed. Then again, she might only like things she can take play around with._ Spicy smells interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to find herself in the kitchen, a large room with plenty of counter space, a stove, microwave oven, refrigerator and cupboards that lined the walls. A small, fluffy grey cat perched in the windowsill, tail twitching while it watched birds eating seeds from a feeder just beyond the glass.

Crystal's mother dried her hands on a lace-edged towel and gestured toward the counter, which was covered in small bowls, spoons and small pizza pans with the dough rolled out inside. "Everyone gets their own personal pizza. Rachel, that's the soy cheese, I had to get a different brand because the store was out of the one I usually get. I hope that's all right. There's pineapple and ham, pepperoni, green pepper... Well, you all know the drill. Except for you-Katie, was it?"

"Katrina," the girl replied, washing her hands in the sink. "Don't worry, it's an easy mistake."

"Yes, well, I hope you don't have any allergies?"

"I don't." Accepting the hand towel from the woman, Katrina dried her hands, then hung it on the special hook next to the window. The cat glanced over, disliking any intrusion on its territory, and gave a soft hiss.

"No, Lucifer, bad kitty," scolded Crystal's mother, shaking a finger at the feline while Katrina quickly backed away. "He's all hiss and no bite, Katrina, no need to be scared of that fluffy monster. Crystal, dear, I'm sorry but I got a call from Beth and she needs me to come over to watch Jimmy for a few hours. Don't blow anything up, no sledding down the stairs, hardwood is not for skating on-"

"Banisters are for hands, not butts, couches are for butts, not feet," Rachel and Sarah chorused.

"And if we need anything, call Beth's cell phone, because her home phone got disconnected again because Mr. Jefferies was mooching off the phone line and called China for three hours, twice," Crystal finished with a dramatic sigh. "We know the drill, Mom."

"That's my girl." A quick kiss on her daughter's cheek later, the woman whisked herself out the door. Outside, a car engine sputtered, died, then roared to life and the sound of wheels spinning in gravel filled the air for a split second.

Crystal grimaced. "Mom is the worst driver in the world, I swear. A few years ago she almost ran into the mailman and hit the power line's pole instead. Good thing she wasn't going very fast, I thought for sure we'd be electrocuted, but the pole didn't break and-mmmph." Her story ended abruptly when Sarah shoved a pickle into the girl's mouth.

"We've heard that story a hundred times, now shut up and make pizza," the brunette said, grabbing a bowl of tomato sauce thick with spices.

"Did she start the oven?" Rachel asked, taking a step toward the stove.

"I'll check it!" Sarah dove for the oven, reaching it before her friend and quickly punching a few buttons. "Yes, she did. Why don't you go back to your pizza, Rachel, and leave the cooking to me, all right?"

"It's not my fault your oven blew up," muttered the other girl, pouring plain sauce onto her pizza.

Seeing Katrina's look of disbelief, Sarah hastened to explain. "It didn't really blow up, just sparked a little and stopped working, all because someone-" she shot Rachel a glare "-pushed the ON button. I swear you're a gremlin, Rachel."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not!"

"Couldn't you guys stop arguing for five minutes?" Crystal begged. "You're making a bad first impression, and I'm getting a headache and if we don't get this pizza cooked soon, my stomach's going to gnaw through my backbone and start on my ribs."

Considering how well-fed – not fat, but not skinny, either – the girl looked, Katrina doubted a late meal would create such a disaster, but she ignored the argument that continued despite Crystal's attempt at being peacemaker and started making her pizza. Sauce and cheese weren't hard to figure out, but the girl wasn't sure what toppings to use. There were at least fifteen, including anchovies, which no one seemed to care for. At last Katrina decided to stick with black olives and what seemed to be slices of a small green pepper. Crystal and the others chuckled when she put a lavish amount of both toppings on her pizza, but didn't explain what was so funny.

Ten minutes later, when Katrina took her first bite of pizza, she found out the reason for the girls' hilarity – the peppers were tear-jerking hot. Fortunately, the olives cooled the peppers' fire enough that her pizza was edible, though Crystal, in sympathy, offered a slice of her own.

"No, thank you," said Katrina, getting ready to take another bite. "I'm fine."

"If you finish that entire pizza," Rachel said, watching the other girl eat with a look akin to awe, "you can pick the color nail polish you want."

"What? No way!" Crystal exclaimed, dropping her pizza slice in surprise. "You _never_ let us pick the color."

Shrugging, Rachel took a large bite of her own pizza – pepperoni, pineapple and ham, on top of soy cheese. "She'll have earned it."

"Why soy cheese?" Katrina asked, turning the conversation away from the topic it had been heading toward, since she didn't want to think about the inevitable makeover. Barricade would not be impressed if she came home with streaked hair and painted fingernails.

Rachel sighed. "I've been lactose intolerant since I was three. Don't ever try it at home."

Crystal and Sarah burst out laughing, and Katrina guessed the common saying had somehow become an in-joke for the friends. Not understanding it, she kept quiet and took another bite of pizza.

"So, what's the deal with your phone?" Sarah asked. "Does one of your uncles-"

"It was a gift," said Katrina, deciding to avoid mentioning her 'uncles' if at all possible. Considering the fact that she now had three – Sunstreaker counted since she had no other designation she could give him – when she'd started with one – Jazz had been away a lot the first year and few people in this town knew he even existed – it would be best if she didn't speak of them too much. It might raise suspicions. "A very special gift, and I'd rather not show it around, if you don't mind."

"That's all right," Sarah said, and the conversation did a swift U-turn, going back to the topic of makeovers. Apparently there was a TV show called Miraculous Makeovers that was run by a topnotch professional, and Rachel watched it every Saturday night to find new ideas for incorporating in her own designs. Sometime during a heated debate on whether hair should be artificially curled or left natural, Crystal fetched orange juice from the refrigerator and poured everyone a tall glass. She was setting Katrina's drink down when Lucifer let out a screech from his perch on the window, and the startled girl dropped the glass in Katrina's lap.

Jumping to her feet, Katrina had the presence of mind to grab the glass before it could fall and break while at the same time yanking Morse from her pocket – the sticky liquid wouldn't destroy him like a normal phone, but it wouldn't be good for him, either. She set her friend down on the table by her plate, then placed the glass, right side up, on her chair. Juice began to puddle on the floor and Katrina eyed her soaked jeans in dismay.

"I'm so sorry," Crystal apologized, glaring at Lucifer. "You stupid cat! Come on, you better get changed. You did bring extra clothes, right?"

"Of course," Katrina said, and she found herself upstairs, in the bathroom, with a change of clothing, before she could protest.

"Better take a shower, or you'll feel all sticky," Crystal advised, shutting the door, and Katrina had to admit the other girl had a point. Sighing, she turned on the hot water and started to pull off her wet clothes.


	9. Offense and Defense

Shorter chapter than usual... But for the nefarious reason of there being a cliffhanger at the end.

Thanks for your kind reviews, I've been rather down lately because of RL stuff and they really helped to cheer me up.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"What d'ya mean, Screamer's headed this way?"_

_ "Exactly what it sounds like. He passed by a few hundred miles south of us, and his current heading will put him near the town where you are staying. I suggest extreme caution, and do not engage him unless it is absolutely necessary. We cannot afford to lose anyone, not with our numbers as low as they currently are."_

_ "Ah know that, Prowler, but this ain't good, not at all. D'ya think we should bring Katrina back t' base? If Screamer's pokin' around, Megatron's not gonna be far behind, and Ah'd rather not tangle with that fella on my own."_

_ "It would be in her best interests to stay here, but Prime does not want to force her to come. If you can convince her it's no longer safe where she is, perhaps she might change her mind. Until then, be vigilant."_

_ "No problem."_

_ "One last thing."_

_ "What's that?"_

_ "If you call me Prowler one more time, I will have you brigged for a month. Understand?"_

_ "Got it."_

_ "Til all are one."_

_ "Til all are one...Prowler."_

* * *

Chapter Nine

Offense and Defense

Pleasant as the shower was, Katrina didn't waste time in rinsing off the orange juice, then climbing out. A fan overhead came on automatically, sending down cool drafts that made the girl shiver while she dried off. Faint beeping caught her attention, and she paused, frowning. _Is that Morse?_ When the noise grew louder, she knew it had to be him, and reached for her pocket, only to remember that she didn't have her jeans on, and he was no longer inside a pocket but sitting on the kitchen table, vulnerable to the curiosity of three girls she barely knew. There was no way to tell from the beeping what they had done to him, but she understood the Morse code all too well, and a repeated SOS could only mean something bad was happening. Or perhaps had already happened.

Spurning her clothes in favor of a makeshift dress she created by wrapping the large towel around herself, the girl threw open the door and took the stairs two at a time, hoping she wasn't too late. When she burst into the kitchen, three heads jerked up, two wearing identical guilty expressions, Sarah's filled with amazement and jealousy. "Why didn't you say your phone could do this?" she asked, raising her hand. Morse was perched on it, completely still, eyes unlit but the loud SOS continuing to come from somewhere inside. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's the only one," Katrina said, one hand holding her towel dress in place while the other snatched Morse away. Her purple eyes hardened as she scowled at them, half her mind decoding the message – which had switched from SOS to something else – while the other part focused on her fury at the girls.

DANGER GO NOW DANGER GO NOW... Repeating the message had he had the previous one, Morse continued to hold his frozen position, not one leg twitching.

"The pattern's different now," Sarah said, a slight frown on her face, and Katrina gave Morse a quick squeeze, wondering if the brunette knew Morse code. Immediately her friend stopped transmitting, a soft vibration in her hand the only sign that he was worried.

Setting Morse on her shoulder, Katrina noticed that Frenzy's altmode was also sitting on the table. "Did you think my CD player can change shape, too?" she growled, grabbing his handle. "I can't believe this."

"Katrina-" Crystal started, but the other girl wasn't going to stay around and wait for excuses. These girls would never be friends of hers, but she couldn't let whatever danger Morse had warned her about hurt them.

"I'm leaving," she snapped, and was out the door before she realized three things. First of all, she had left her backpack – not a big loss. Second, she was only wearing a towel, and it was a chilly outside. Third, she had no idea how she would get home, which was perhaps the worst. The alternative to walking home in the dark and risking a cold was going back inside. _Not an option_, she told herself, even as Morse's eyes blinked on and he chirped, one leg raised and jabbing toward the road.

"What is it, Morse?" she whispered, then found out a few seconds later when a bright yellow Lamborghini raced up the driveway, brakes squealing as he slid to a stop, front bumper close enough to touch. Letting out a shaky breath, Katrina hurried to the passenger's side and climbed in. Sunstreaker slammed the door shut and did a half circle in the driveway, wheels kicking up gravel, then tore out before the girl even had time to reach for the seatbelt.

Bending to set Frenzy on the floor, Katrina flinched when hot air blasted her face. She tried to shut the air vents, without success.

"Stop messing around and sit still," Sunstreaker grumbled, turning on his hologram in order to glare at the girl. "If I get water-stained, not even your guardians could save you, squishy."

"Don't call me that," Katrina retorted. "My name is Katrina."

"But you're squishy, aren't you? Why not call you that?"

"Because it's not my name, and if you continue to use that word, I'll start calling you a glitched slagheap ready for the Pit." She hid a brief smile of satisfaction, imagining what Barricade would do if he'd heard her. Blow a fuse, maybe?

"Where'd you learn to talk like that? No, let me guess. Jazz." The hologram shook his head. "You'll have to do better than that, squishy."

Katrina bristled, ready for an argument, then surprised herself, Sunstreaker, Morse and Frenzy by bursting into tears.

"Now-look-what-you-did-stupid-Autobot," Frenzy snarled, transforming. There wasn't enough room under the dashboard for him, so he moved into the driver's seat, forcing Sunstreaker to switch off the hologram. "Ignore-him-Katrina-Barricade-can-deal-with-him-later."

"Barricade's got troubles of his own right now," Sunstreaker said. "He and Jazz have gone to deal with a Seeker who's ventured a little too close to this town. Lucky me, I get stuck here, watching a youngling while they get all the fun. Not to mention my wet seats."

_Youngling's not much better than squishy_, Katrina thought, deciding not to argue the point any further. More important was the mention of a Seeker. She knew all of them were allied with the Decepticons, and now she could see why Morse had been insistent about leaving. "Who is it? The Seeker, I mean."

"Starscream, of course. Who else would be stupid enough? Megatron might be lying low, but his SIC – that's Second in Command, by the way-"

"I know what it stands for," the girl interrupted, drying her eyes. Tears couldn't help her guardians, and worry began to settle like a rock in her stomach. "And I know who Starscream is, too. He...he tried to kill me two summers ago." _Along with a lot of other Decepticons, whose names I don't remember. How come I recall his name but not theirs? Maybe it's because Jazz has at least a thousand stories about Starscream's failed attempts at overthrowing Megatron. I don't believe all the tales are true, but the ones that Barricade also remembers must be, like the time Starscream drank the unstable energon he'd meant to give to Megatron by mistake._ A smile would have crossed her face if it wasn't for the fact said Seeker was probably fighting her guardians at the moment. Jazz and Barricade had mentioned during their reminisces a rumor suggesting Starscream might be immortal, and she didn't like the sound of that.

Sunstreaker's speakers crackled with laughter, startling the girl out of her worried thoughts. "Don't sound so frightened, he's a terrible shot."

Katrina's memories of that horrible moment, with snarling dogs attacking and shots exploding on the ground nearby, made her shudder. If she never got dumped in the midst of a battle between giant robots again, it would be too soon. Her musings were interrupted again, this time by a blast of hot air stronger than the first one. "Are you trying to roast me?" she demanded, shrinking back and covering her face in a useless effort to shield herself from the heat.

The yellow Autobot released more air in a deep whoosh. "You were shivering, weren't you? Shivering means you're cold, which means you need heat to keep your body temperature steady."

"Katrina-is-scared-not-cold-stupid-Autobot." Frenzy let out a shrill screech when the seat he had perched on jerked forward, then back, sending the mech tumbling to the floor. "Do-that-again-and-you-will-regret-it," he muttered, scrambling onto the seat again.

"Call me stupid one more time, and you and your pet can walk home," snapped Sunstreaker, his good mood vanishing faster than it had appeared. "And stop digging your claws in. That _hurts_."

"I'm not scared," Katrina added, frowning at Frenzy. "It's just that I'm worried about Jazz and Barricade. Have you heard anything from them?"

"No," the Autobot and Neutral said in unison.

NO, Morse clicked, hanging his head. CONTACT?

"Not if they're fighting, Morse." Giving her friend a gentle pat, Katrina turned her head and gazed out the window. Faint tree shapes flashed by, and the girl had to force herself not to glance at the speedometer out of habit. It seemed that the night had settled in faster than she'd expected. "Sunstreaker, did you tint your windows?"

"And I'm not untinting them. If another Autobot saw me driving around with a squishy-I mean, human,"Sunstreaker corrected hastily at a low growl from Frenzy, who'd also pressed his claws deeper into the leather seat, "I'd never live it down."

"Oh." Feeling small and unwanted, Katrina kept her mouth shut for the rest of the trip, not even commenting on the Autobot's ever-increasing speed._ Does he think he's a race car? I wish Barricade would catch him and give him a ticket._ The scene her mind created regarding that scenario almost brought a smile to the girl's face, but thinking about her guardian reminded her of the battle taking place. _Please let them be okay._

It did not take long to reach her house, and Sunstreaker flung open his door before he'd completely stopped. Frenzy found himself ejected without ceremony and Katrina climbed out before she got the same treatment. Both front doors slammed shut and the girl would have sworn she heard locks click in place. Rolling her eyes, Katrina headed for the house. The cool night air had her shivering before she'd even reached the door, and the girl turned the doorknob with numb fingers. _I want a hot shower and pajamas and sleep_, she thought, hiding a yawn behind one hand while closing the door with the other.

SUN TELL IF NEWS, Morse announced in rapid chirps.

"Okay," said Katrina, taking the stairs two at a time. "Thank him for me-no, wait, I'll do it myself." Once inside her room, the girl slid open her window and leaned out. "Thanks for the ride, Sunstreaker, and if they contact you, please let me know."

A slight flicker of headlights was the only sign the Autobot had heard her, but Katrina closed her window, feeling a little better. "You stay in here while I take another shower, Morse," she ordered, setting him down on her pillow. The little spider didn't protest – he hated getting wet. Curling his legs under him until he looked like a little ball, Morse off-lined his optics and went into a light recharge.

After gathering her spare set of pajamas, underwear and hairbrush, the girl left her room. Something crashed downstairs, and Katrina paused outside her bathroom door long enough to shout, "Frenzy? Are you all right?" _Last night he complained about _my_ night vision, wonder what he'd say if I commented on his?_ The thought brought a quick smile to her face.

"Stupid-stupid-stupid," came the muttered reply, mixed with Cybertronian curses, most of which Katrina didn't recognize. Those she did made her turn red, remembering the lectures she'd received from both her guardians the one time she'd used a few of the swears now coming from Frenzy's mouth.

_Must have struck something sensitive. Good thing Jazz isn't here to hear him._ Shaking her head, the girl shut the bathroom door and hoped nothing important had been broken – not that there was much in the house that couldn't be replaced. When another muffled crash came a moment later, the girl had already turned on the shower and didn't hear it over the pattering water.

Morse, on the other hand, was roused from his recharge mode by the noise, and when he received a distressing message from Frenzy, the little spider disregarded Katrina's instructions to stay where he was and began climbing down the side of the bed.


	10. Rumble

My apologies, this chapter is rather late... Not sure when the next chapter will be up. Just learned last night that Presario, our former internet comp, is dead. I miss him...

Thanks for all your faves, alerts and reviews! I really appreciate them. ^.^

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Hold still, you slaggers!"_

_ "That's 'bout as likely as ya learnin' t' fly, bird-brain."_

_ "Less talking and more shooting, Jazz, we don't have all night."_

_ "Wait a sec, what was that?"_

_ "Wouldn't you like to know!"_

_ "What was it, Jazz?"_

_ "He dropped somethin'... Can't see where it went. Hey, where ya goin', Screamer?"_

_ "Give my regards to your pet squishy, 'Cade. Megatron might have forgotten her already, but I haven't. Nor I have I forgotten your treason, Autobot slave."_

_ "Get back here, you coward, and say that to my face."_

* * *

Chapter Ten

Rumble

On a normal day, Morse would never consider using the stairs. If he stayed with Katrina, she would carry him around, and there was no need to climb up and down the staircase, with its tall steps more than twice as high as the little spider. However, Frenzy's transmission couldn't be ignored, and Morse didn't want Katrina – who'd already had a difficult day – getting caught in whatever mess the other mech had gotten himself into in the brief time they'd been home. Hopefully, it didn't involve Sunstreaker; the Autobot had made it clear he disliked the two Neutrals and the last thing they needed was a fight between two mechs on the same team when a Decepticon was lurking about.

The possibility that Starscream might be a decoy had occurred to Morse, and he wondered if he should mention it to the other two, then decided Sunstreaker would not welcome the suggestion, because he'd think the little spider was implying that the Autobot might not have considered the idea. _On the other hand, maybe it would be best if Frenzy's fighting with Sunstreaker. Otherwise, the decoy idea might be true. But that doesn't explain why the crash was inside._ Hopping to the next step, Morse tried not to think about his return trip – getting down was hard enough. Every landing sent jolts running through his body and several warning systems came on, monitoring the sudden rise in his core temperature. No, if he had to rescue Frenzy, the least the other mech could do was give him a lift to the second floor, unless he had taken a lot of damage. In which case, Katrina would have a fit about Morse not coming to get her.

_Frenzy, you better stay in one piece,_ the little spider grumbled silently, not daring to transmit anything. They'd been lucky Katrina hadn't caught the distress call. That thought in mind, Morse reached the floor and scurried down the hall toward the front door and a lot of crashing noises. From the sound of it, someone was getting their head slammed into the wall. Repeatedly.

Rounding the corner, he was not prepared for the sight of two nearly identical mechs having it out amidst the splintered wreckage of the front door, shattered glass from the nearby window, and more smashed wood from the wall separating hall from kitchen. All in all, Frenzy and his doppelganger had created a disaster Barricade would have to hire someone to clean up and repair. Morse could easily imagine the Neutral's complaints.

No time to worry about Barricade's reaction at the moment, however. Without warning, Morse brought out his cannons and let off two shots at the enemy's head, then scuttled up the nearest wall, barely avoiding an attack of shuriken. If Frenzy wasn't somehow related to this strange mech, the little spider would paint his chassis pink and leave it that way for a month.

Another flurry of small metal stars disrupted the little spider's musings and Morse sent two more cannon blasts the doppelganger's way even as he evaded said mech's attacks. A stream of high speed clicking, far too fast for Katrina to have understood, flowed from Morse's mouth. FRENZY WHO THIS LOOKALIKE? Dodging another strike, Morse almost missed Frenzy's frantic reply.

"Rumble-old-comrade. Works-for-Soundwave-like-I-did."

WHY HERE?

"Came-to-get-him-back-of-course," came the reply, not from Frenzy, but from Rumble, whose voice was almost identical to the Neutral's. If it hadn't been for the dark look in Rumble's optics or the reddish tinge on his chassis – unlike Frenzy's blue hue – Morse would have sworn it was his friend speaking, and that worried him. As far as he knew, Frenzy did not possess the ability to create holograms, but if this Rumble did, it wouldn't be too hard for the little spider to shoot the wrong mech. They needed to take him out as soon as possible, but how?

* * *

Upstairs, Katrina hummed while warm water trickled over her skin, carrying away frothy soapsuds. Knowing nothing about the fight taking place below her feet, she leaned her head back and let the spray pelt her face. Once in a while the faucet would sputter, but the girl barely noticed, used to the spitting noise and the brief halt of the water flow. A plumber had come to fix the problem not long after Barricade had purchased the house, and informed them that the old well pump was sucking air at times and without replacing the entire pump assembly – a rather expensive procedure – the problem would persist. Katrina had assured her guardian that she didn't care. To be honest, she liked the house as it was. If she had to leave it, the girl wouldn't mind, but for now, it was much better than any government base she'd stayed at, or even the Witwicky's house, because this place was _her_ home, not a place where she was just a guest. Or a prisoner.

The hot water began to cool, and Katrina sighed. _Wish the hot water heater was larger._ After giving her hair one last quick rise, the girl turned the hot and cold knobs two squeaky turns to a solid halt, and the water stopped. Her ears, no longer assaulted by pounding water, were free to hear the distant sounds of a fight.

"Morse! Frenzy!" For the second time in as many hours, Katrina ran out of a bathroom dressed in a towel, continuing to shout her friends' names at the top of her lungs, heart pounding. "Frenzy! Morse! What's going on?" Receiving no reply, the girl took the stairs three at a time, catching herself twice on the banister when her wet feet slipped on the polished wood. "Sunstreaker, Frenzy, Morse!" Panting, she skidded down the hall and ducked just in time to avoid a barrage of small sharp objects aimed at her head. "Slag it, Frenzy, watch-" her scolding died on her lips when she realized there were two red-eyed mechs her size standing in the hall, surrounded by destruction. Neither looked happy to see her.

"Katrina-run-find-Barricade," shouted the bluish one, pouncing on his opponent. "Take-Morse-with-you-on-wall-hurry-run-go!"

Startled by the urgency in her friend's voice, Katrina wasted no time in snatching Morse from his precarious position, then dashing out of the house, flinching when a high-pitched squeal came from behind her – she hoped it had been the other mech who'd been injured, not Frenzy.

"Sunstreaker, you've got to help," the girl gasped, running toward the Lamborghini still sitting on the lawn, supposedly guarding the house. _Fine job he did, letting that other mech in._ The little trust she'd had for him, already low due to his constant use of the word 'squishy' in reference to her, dropped another few points, and Katrina had no qualms about rapping on his hood when she did not get a reply to her request.

"Squishy, what could be important enough to interrupt my recharge cycle?" complained the yellow Autobot, headlights flickering in an annoyed manner. Somehow he managed to shine them in the girl's eyes, even though she stood next to his driver's door. Before Katrina could reply – had he just said he'd been _sleeping?_ – Sunstreaker continued. "If you came to beg me to rescue your friend who's getting his aft kicked in there, think again. I don't help Decepticons." With that, he shut off his headlights and fell silent.

Resisting the urge to kick the Autobot's nearest tire and in no mood for a lengthy argument, not with Frenzy's life on the line, Katrina decided she'd handle the problem herself and headed for the garage. Opening the garage door took the longest five seconds of her life, but once inside, she knew exactly where the weapon she wanted sat. The girl picked up the gun and pulled the trigger back a fraction, her face taking on a grim expression when small blue sparks crackled around the gun's tip.

"Morse, see if you can talk Sunstreaker into helping," she said, setting her friend on the ground.

CARE, the little spider chirped, then scuttled through the grass toward the stubborn yellow Autobot.

"You be careful, too," Katrina called after him, heading for the gap in the house that had once been the front door. Stealth might have been a better choice than barging in, guns blazing, but the girl didn't care. Frenzy needed help and she wasn't going to let a Decepticon scrap her friend. Gun held tight in both hands for a steadier shot, Katrina burst into the house and shot both mechs with the lowest setting – a slight stun. They collapsed on the floor, spasming and emitting twin screams. Holding her guilt at bay with the knowledge that Frenzy would have gotten more hurt if he'd continued fighting his doppelganger, the girl flicked her gun to the middle setting, a heavy stun, and pulled the trigger again. This time, white blue energy jumped from the gun and enveloped only one mech, the red one, for a brief instant before fading and leaving the mech in status lock until his systems could recover from the overload.

With the enemy out of the way for the moment, Katrina knelt and shook Frenzy's shoulder, when she got shocked but refusing to release her hold. "Come on, Frenzy, wake up." _It wasn't that strong of a charge, was it? Jazz said the lowest setting wouldn't last more than a few minutes._ "Frenzy!"

Optics on-lining, the little mech swung at the girl before fully processing the visual information he was receiving. He stopped the blow an inch from her shoulder – the strike would have landed if Katrina hadn't flinched away in time. "Sorry-Katrina-what-happened?"

"I tased you, sorry," she said, surprising Frenzy with a hug. "Are you okay?" the girl added, releasing the mech when he began to squirm. "Did he hurt you? Who is that mech, anyway? A Decepticon?" Her friend nodded and Katrina sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Not-your-fault-he-was-after-me," Frenzy explained, wobbling as he made himself stand.

The girl scrambled to her feet and turned to the unconscious Decepticon, frowning while she watched him twitch, stray sparks scurrying over his armor. "He was after you?"

"Rumble-and-I-worked-for-Soundwave-who-loaned-me-to-Barricade-but-now-Soundwave-wants-me-back-and-told-Rumble-to-use-force-if-necessary. Sorry-you-got-involved."

Shooting her friend an angry glare, Katrina snapped, "Next time something like this happens, call for help." She shook her head at Frenzy's confused expression. "Primus, Frenzy, you're my _friend_. If you get in trouble with Decepticons, I'll help you kick their afts. Got it?"

"Watch-your-language," scolded the mech. "Can-handle-Rumble-on-my-own."

"Didn't look like that from where I was standing," the girl muttered, before turning her attention to something more important. "What do you mean, Soundwave loaned you to Barricade?" _Who's Soundwave, anyway? _She tried to recall what she knew about the Decepticon, but exhaustion mixed with fear and adrenaline were playing havoc with her thought processes.

"Rumble-and-I-and-others-serve-only-Soundwave-but-he-often-loans-our-services-to-other-Decepticons. Now-that-Barricade-has-left-the-Decepticons-Soundwave-wants-me-to-return."

"Oh. Are you?"

"Going-back? No-way." Frenzy shook his head from side to side hard enough that Katrina could imagine it flying off. "We-are-friends-remember?"

The girl smiled, pleased at hearing her own words repeated back, and nodded. "What do we do with him now, then? It's not like we have a ja-er, brig," she corrected herself, suddenly remembering the right term. "I know the Decepticons don't usually take prisoners, but we can't kill him." Waiting for the mech to disagree, Katrina was surprised when her friend nodded in agreement instead.

"Rumble-is...like-family. I-do-not-want-to-kill-him-either-but-we-cannot-leave-him-here."

"Actually, we can, and we will," said a familiar voice. "Pack your bags, Katrina, we're leaving ASAP."

"Barricade!" Spinning around, Katrina beamed at her guardian – who was kneeling beside the house in order to look in through the large hole – glad to see he was all right. Her smile faded a bit after the Neutral's words sunk in. "What do you mean, we're leaving?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Is that a gun? Why are you wearing a towel?"

"It's an Autobot taser Jazz gave me," she said, face reddening, "and I was taking a shower when the Decepticon broke in and started fighting with Frenzy. Are you okay? Where's Jazz?"

"Right behind me. We chased Starscream off – rather, the cowardly aft ran away, and we came back as fast as we could. Frenzy, why is Rumble here?"

Red optics downcast, the smaller mech muttered, "Soundwave-wants-me-back. Should-have-known-better-than-to-send-"

"Hate to interrupt your little gathering, but we've got company headed this way," interrupted Sunstreaker, his voice blaring through the open windows of his altmode. "Better change fast, Neutral, or they'll catch sight of you."

"Humans?" Barricade demanded.

"That's what Jazz said."

Cursing, Katrina's guardian folded into his altmode and moved back a little from the house. "I'll put up a hologram, but ya'd better change fast, Katrina, and get outside to detour them from knocking on a door that isn't there."

The girl nodded and dashed upstairs, where she dropped the gun on her desk, grabbed random clothes from her dresser and flung them on, flicking her wet hair out of her shirt as she ran down the stairs and out the door, skidding to a stop beside the police cruiser a second before a familiar green sports car pulled in, followed by an even more familiar silver Pontiac. Katrina froze when Crystal stepped out of the car, carrying a backpack, and headed toward the house.

"Something wrong?" murmured Barricade's hologram as it feigned climbing out of the driver's seat and walking around to stand beside his charge.

"Tell you later," the girl replied through clenched teeth. _Why'd she have to bring it back? I don't need it and if she remembers the towel, I'll have trouble getting it without her trying to walk into the house – she's too nosy to stay outside, even if I asked her to._ Two more holograms joined the first, which surprised Katrina. _I'd have thought Sunstreaker wouldn't bother using his projector unless he needed a fake driver..._ Her thoughts were interrupted by Crystal, who stopped a few feet away and offered the other girl a small, hesitant smile.

"You left your backpack," she said, holding it out. "I'm sorry for what Rachel and Sarah and I did. It was wrong and we hope you'll forgive us."

"What exactly did you do?" growled Barricade, his question echoed by Jazz – Sunstreaker's hologram wore a knowing expression and Katrina guessed Morse had for some reason told the Autobot what the girls had done.

"We messed around with her phone a little while she was cleaning up after an accidental spill," the girl mumbled, flinching at the glare the police officer was giving her. "You...you aren't going to arrest us, are you?"

"Jails for real criminals," he replied calmly, spoiling the affect by adding, "Don't tempt me to bend the rules a little."

"Anyway, we're really, really sorry and we'll see you in school Monday, okay?"

Katrina stepped forward and took the backpack, shaking her head. "No, you won't. We're leaving tonight. Some family business came up and I won't be back for a while." _More than likely, not ever. If Starscream, Soundwave and Rumble knew we were here, then Megatron will find out soon, if he hasn't already, and I can't risk getting captured._ "Do you want the towel back?" she continued, trying to distract the other girl from asking questions about the 'family business'. Her plan worked.

Nodding, Crystal glanced toward the house. "Nice place. I like the color."

"Wait here, please," Katrina said, deciding that ignoring the girl's comments would be the easiest way to deal with unwanted inquiries. "I'll be right back."

Not heeding her words, Crystal followed her. "Are those three all your uncles?" she whispered, glancing over one shoulder at the holograms, who continued to stand by the police cruiser, unsure what to do. "They don't look much alike. Especially the blond guy, he looks like a movie star." The girl giggled. "He's really cute! What's his name?" She sobered when Katrina shot her an angry look. "Are you still mad with me? I said I was sorry."

As firmly as she could, Katrina ordered, "Wait here," then hurried inside – the fake door opened when she placed her hand on the nonexistent handle – praying to any god that might be listening to make the other girl listen for once. Upon returning, towel in hand, she found her wish granted. Crystal was standing where she'd been when Katrina went inside, a slight frown on her face.

Katrina handed over the towel. "Here you go."

"Do you soak the door hinges in grease?" asked the other girl, her frown deepening.

"Look, we're going to be late for our flight, so you need to go," Katrina snapped, and managed to usher Crystal down the driveway without any further questions. "Thanks for returning my backpack."

Crystal shrugged. "No problem."

On the spur of the moment, Katrina added, "I forgive you for playing around with my phone. Just don't do something like that again."

"All right," the other girl agreed, her former smile returning full force. "Hope everything's okay with your family. See you around, Kat."

"It's Katr-" Not bothering to finish her sentence, as the green car was already driving away, Katrina shook her head and headed toward Jazz, who happened to be nearest. "All right, let's go," she said, yawning. "There's nothing I need inside. Sunstreaker, where's Morse?"

"Right here," Jazz's hologram said, setting the little spider in her cupped hands. "Ya ridin' with me or Barricade?"

"You." Yawning again, Katrina climbed in when he opened the door, then curled up on the seat and closed her eyes, Morse held close to her chest. Her backpack sat on the floor, and Jazz closed his door quietly, not wanting to disturb the already sleeping girl. Barricade opened his own door to let Frenzy get in, then all three cars drove down the driveway and turned onto the main road, accelerating to nearly twice the speed limit as they headed toward the highway.

Deciding to risk a short conversation, since Katrina was asleep, Jazz sent to Barricade, _"Think we should tell her where we're headed?"_

_ "You can if you want, or let her find out when we get there. She won't be happy about it, either way."_


	11. Troublesome Conversations

Well, it's been a while since I updated... Internet access during vacation was even less than I anticipated, which meant no chance of posting. I did have a great vacation, though! ^.^

Talk about bad memory... I've read so many fics that refer to Lennox as "major" and only just realized that I've been calling him "captain". Which is fine in KS, but in this fic is definitely a demotion...

As always, thanks for your reviews and feel free to point out any mistakes you see.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Jazz to Prime."_

_ "Receiving you, what's your status?"_

_ "Starscream left and we're takin' your advice. ETA unknown, but we're headed for Diego Garcia. There was another 'Con with Screamer, Rumble."_

_ "I know the mech. He works for Soundwave. Was he after Frenzy?"_

_ "How did-never mind. Yes, he was, and he knew exactly where the house is. With our location no longer secure, Barricade and Ah've decided Katrina'd be safest under military guard."_

_ "Did you ask her opinion?"_

_ "Prime, it's too dangerous. Even Barricade knows we can't run and hide forever. Katrina's a smart kid, she'll understand."_

_ "I hope you are right about that, Jazz. Dangerous or not, it's her freedom at stake here. Once she is in their reach, we cannot prevent the government from taking her if they wish."_

_ "They can try. 'Cade and Ah'll slag them all. And Katrina's life is at stake, too, ya know. Given the choice-"_

_ "You choose her life over her freedom. I know. But would she?"_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Troublesome Conversations

Major Lennox and his team were enjoying themselves in NEST's human rec room when Wheelie burst through the dog door that had been installed for him. The toy truck careened over the hardwood floor, dodging empty beer cans and bags of chips, finally skidding to a halt in front of the major. Even before he'd finished transforming the little mech was babbling at top speed.

"Slow down," Sergeant Epps cautioned, glancing away from the video game he was playing. His opponent cheered in victory and the sergeant cursed, demanding a rematch, which was declined. Throwing down his controller, Epps leaned back and stretched his arms over his head, working out the kinks while he listened to the rapid-fire speech pouring from Wheelie's mouth.

Once the little mech had stopped talking, Lennox asked in a calm voice, "Could you repeat that, in a slower, condensed version?"

Rolling his single working optic, the Autobot complied. "The big guy wants you, Simmons, Galloway and Sam to talk to him about something."

A scowl settled on Lennox's face. "Galloway's back already?"

Wheelie nodded. "You better hurry. I'm going to find Warrior Goddess." He spun around and took off, switching to altmode when he reached the dog door. Its flap swung back and forth wildly in the wake of his swift passage through.

"Want me to come, Major?" Epps asked, letting his arms drop to his sides and shooting his game controller an annoyed glare, like it was the reason he'd lost the recent game.

"No. Keep a beer cold for me, I shouldn't be too long. Simmons!" Lennox scanned the rec room, knowing that the ex-agent was somewhere nearby. The major finally spotted his target sleeping on a couch, and went over to shake the man's shoulder. "Simmons, get up, Prime wants to speak with you."

"Can't a man get some shuteye around here?" Sitting up, the ex-agent yawned, then glared at Lennox. "What's he want now?"

"I don't know, but it's urgent. Do you know where Sam is?"

"Med bay?" Simmons suggested, picking up the can of energy drink he hadn't finished, only to find it empty. Shaking his head, the man pitched the can into a nearby trash bin and headed for the door, straightening his jacket. "Don't you have some sort of intercomm in this place?"

"Committee shot down the suggestion because of expense. We have to rely on phones and radios until the funding comes along. If ever." Lennox unclipped his handheld from his belt and tuned it to the Autobots' frequency. "Prime, this is Major Lennox and Simmons, where are you?"

A brief silence was broken by a quiet crackle of static, then Optimus's voice came through the speakers loud and clear. _"I'm in the hangar, but please meet me at the med bay, Major."_

"Yes, sir." Returning his handheld to his belt, Lennox gestured to the other man. "Follow me. We need to find Galloway."

Simmons groaned. "I thought you dumped him deep in the Egyptian desert. How'd he get back so fast?"

"That's what I'd like to know," the major muttered.

* * *

Once everyone summoned had gathered in the med bay around Sam's bed, Optimus gave a brief explanation about who Katrina was and why she – and her guardians – were coming to Diego Garcia. Upon finishing, he asked if there were any questions. Not surprising, Liaison Galloway, who'd interrupted several times during the explanation, had others to ask, and he wasted no time on doing it politely. Eyes narrowed, the man demanded, "You're telling me there is a young girl out there with the same power this Matrix of yours has? And she's walking around without the government's knowledge, just waiting for a Decepticon to grab her?"

Optimus shook his head. "She holds the power of the AllSpark, not the Matrix. They are similar, not the same. Also, she has the protection of First Lieutenant Jazz and Neutral Barricade-"

"What do you mean by Neutral?"

"Neutrals are those who chose not to fight on either side of the Autobot/Decepticon war," the Prime explained.

"What if he decides to join the Decepticons and give them the girl, with your Lieutenant as a bonus?"

"It is unlikely such an event would occur. Jazz and Barricade are both Katrina's guardians, and-"

The liaison held up a hand as he interrupted again. "Wait, did you say _Katrina_? Is her last name Culman, by any chance?"

It was Optimus's turn for narrowed optics. He'd already mentioned the girl's name several times. Why was Galloway reacting to it now? Not knowing whether the man was right or not, the Prime simply said, "Perhaps. You know her? How?"

"Not personally, if she's who I'm thinking of," Galloway stammered, as if realizing he'd said too much. "Her parents were acquaintances of mine and they spoke of her a lot."

"What did they say?"

The man tried to shrug the matter off. "Normal parent stuff. She's bright, but doesn't like to obey adults, can be stubborn."

_He knows more than he's telling_, the Prime thought, wondering if he should press Galloway for more information at the present time. He had many questions regarding Katrina's past, but knew from experience that the liaison rarely gave out more information than necessary, and vigorous questioning would only make him clam up. Still, Optimus decided to risk one more question. "Who are her parents?"

A slight shift in the man's eyes preceded his answer. "Government employed scientists. They died in a lab accident."

Something about Galloway's story didn't ring true, but the Prime didn't have any more time to waste dragging information from the unwilling liaison – there was a budget meeting in five minutes that he couldn't miss. "Maybe you should be included in the greeting party, then."

"What do you mean by that?"

Sam grinned. "Katrina's coming here, right? And Jazz as well?"

"Of course. Both her guardians are coming. Sam, if Ratchet agrees to it, I'd like you to lead the greeting party. Of us all, you perhaps know her the best. I'd ask Mikaela to join you, but..."

"She's helping Ratchet repair everyone who was injured while fighting the Decepticons," the teen finished, sighing. He hadn't seen his girlfriend since they'd arrived at base, and though that had been less than twenty four hours ago, it felt like years. "What about my parents?"

"If they are not otherwise occupied, they are welcome to join you," Optimus replied, recalling that he had last seen the Witwickys demanding a phone from their assigned escort in order to call someone to feed their dogs.

"When is Katrina getting here?"

"Soon, I hope. Jazz contacted us to say they were leaving about two hours ago, but getting here from Nevada will be no easy task."

Galloway adjusted his glasses and frowned at Optimus. "Is the Neutral you mentioned – Berrykid, was it? – coming here as well?"

"Barricade," Prime corrected, holding tight to his last threads of patience. He'd explained several times about the basic meaning of guardianship, but the liaison still didn't seem to understand, and Optimus had a bad feeling about where this conversation was headed.

"That doesn't give us much time to prepare, now does it? Why wasn't I informed of this before now? Two more Autobots are all well and good, but an unallied robot in the middle of a military base is asking for trouble, and I'm not sure it's a good idea for that girl-"

"Her name is Katrina," Optimus interrupted, unwilling to let 'that girl' pass, even once. The way Galloway had said it – like the girl was some sort of thing, not a sentient being – annoyed the Prime, who made his feelings clear by not allowing the liaison to speak further. "Katrina is more than welcome here, on _my_ base."

Galloway sniffed and stalked toward the door, pausing in the doorway for one last parting remark. "The president might have signed this base over to you, Mr. Prime, but he can take that privilege away at any time."

"Have a good day, Liaison Galloway," replied Optimus, keeping his tone civil, then vented air the second the door had closed.

"I'd like to take away a few of his privileges," Major Lennox muttered, glaring at the door.

Simmons nodded. "I hate to agree with you, but that man-" he spoke those two words with the same slight nuance Galloway had given 'that girl' "-could have done us more good staying in whatever desert hole you dropped him in."

"I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned that yet," admitted the major, frowning. "Unless he thinks it really was an emergency."

"No one else bailed out, though?"

"There was no way I could ask for a volunteer to go after him as a decoy to make it look real."

"Because no one would go, even if you ordered them?" Sam asked.

"No," Lennox said, keeping a straight face, "because everyone would have volunteered, on the condition they could take pot shots at his parachute on the way down." That remark earned a laugh from the others – even Optimus allowed himself a quick chuckle – then the major got back to business. "Should we send a jet to pick them up? Shipping two cars overseas could be difficult, especially since their destination is a military base. Sam wouldn't be able to come, but I could lead a small team to meet them."

"Thank you, Major Lennox, that is a good suggestion." Prime's eyes dimmed for a moment, then brightened and he gave a short nod. "Jazz says he likes the idea. They should reach Dallas, Texas in time to meet a jet if you leave at once. Take whoever you want, but try to keep the group small, and wear civilian clothing. Katrina is..."

"Not fond of the military," finished the major with a knowing nod. "Yes, I know. Wish I could take you, Sam, you'd be a good distraction. However, we'll do our best to make her comfortable. That said, it would be best if there was _someone_ she knows on the jet."

"I'll go," Simmons offered, unfazed by the carefully blank look Lennox gave him and the outright laughter coming from Sam. "Unless you've got a better idea."

"Simmons, what do you know about Katrina's past?" Optimus asked suddenly.

"I didn't know she existed until the day I was asked to escort her to her cousin's," replied the man, calm brown eyes daring the Autobot leader to challenge his answer. "Though I'll bet Galloway knows her more than he's saying."

"Won't take that bet," Lennox said. "All right, let's move out. Simmons, we'll meet up in the hangar in an hour. Grab everything you think you might need. Sam, I hope you'll be waiting on the runway when we get back, if you feel up to it."

"You've got it." Giving the major two thumbs up, Sam managed to add a weak smile – his bout of laughter had jarred his broken ribs and the pain that had been faint for the past few hours had grown worse. "You might want to bring ice cream or something. I think her favorite flavor's strawberry. And don't forget her cell phone's alive. It turns into a spider named Morse."

"Any more advice?" asked Lennox, serious.

Sam shrugged, unable to think of anything else. It had been over a year since he'd seen the girl, after all. "Um, be nice?"

"Be extremely careful in picking your team members," Optimus added in warning. "Someone who shoots at the sight of red optics will endanger this mission. Barricade, despite his less-than-friendly appearance and former alliance, is on Katrina's side. As is his sidekick, Frenzy. They will protect her at all costs. If you seem a threat, they won't hesitate to destroy you."

"Wait, Frenzy's coming, too?" Sam groaned, covering his face. "Dibs on not telling Mikaela."

"There is no need to be concerned," said the Prime. "She will understand the circumstances are much different than they were then. Good luck to you and your team, Major Lennox. Sam, you should get some rest now."

"All I've been doing is sleep. Couldn't I at least have a book? Or a DVD player? Or a television?"

"Doctor's orders," Lennox and Optimus said in unison, then they walked out the med bay door, the human jogging to keep pace with the Autobot.

"Not fair," Sam grumbled under his breath. He leaned back and closed his eyes. "I hope Katrina didn't get hurt." Despite his previous protests, the boy found himself dozing off almost immediately.

* * *

"What is that?" Lennox asked, eying the huge backpack Simmons had slung over one shoulder. "When I said to bring anything you thought you might need, I didn't mean a personal arsenal. We're picking up a kid and her guardians, not taking on Megatron."

Without a word, the ex-agent unzipped his bag and showed the major its contents – books, handheld video games, snacks and clothing that looked too small for him. "Supplies for the kid," he explained, closing the zipper and shouldering the backpack again. "Ever had to keep one entertained during a long trip? It's not easy. I assume that your jets don't have televisions installed yet."

Trying to hide his surprise, the major gave a short nod and waved one hand toward the jet nearby. "All right, get on board." Lennox glanced at his watch – Epps was five minutes late. Simmons being late wasn't much of a surprise, but it was rare when his sergeant didn't arrive on time.

Before the major could start worrying, the last member of his three-man team ran up, lugging a backpack half the size of Simmons and twice as heavy from the looks of it. "Excuse me, Major, had trouble finding some games to bring for the kid."

Simmons might have gotten raised eyebrows, but Epps had kids of his own, and Lennox just shrugged. No doubt the ex-agent had taken the easily accessible things, and not knowing that, the sergeant had probably walked around half the base in search of good distractions for a kid who was going to be stuck in a jet for a long time. "No problem. Let's move out." Lennox contacted Optimus through his handheld as he climbed aboard and signaled the pilot. "We're on our way, Prime."

_"As I said before, good luck."_


	12. Help Unexpected

Hasn't been quite two weeks but my parents have decided (finally!) that we're going back to our summer cottage for around two weeks, and since we're leaving Monday, that leaves me little time for things that don't involve packing. On top of that, my internet access is going to be down for anywhere from a few days to after we get back...

In other words, this will be last update for a while. But I'm hoping to get back into a weekly basis for posting once I return. Unless my muse bites the dust again...

Thank you for reviewing - it truly cheers me up on bad days to see someone appreciating my work!

___corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"She'll be furious about this, you know, Jazz."_

_ "Yeah, Ah know, but it _is_ for her own good. Soundwave's got his own personal army, and if he's after Frenzy..."_

_ "Maybe-you-should-just-send-me-back-then-Katrina-won't-be-in-trouble."_

_ "Like she'd let that happen, ya little glitch."_

_ "Bad no ask."_

_ "Sorry, Morse, we haven't got a choice, unless ya know how t' shield our spark signatures so no one can find us."_

_ "I don't think Soundwave found us that way."_

_ "What, ya sayin' those rumors 'bout him havin' psychic powers are _true_?"_

_ "Not exactly. I mean, there's no proof he can read minds or influence them mentally, but...I've seen things that might have no other explanation. Don't ask me to go into detail, you wouldn't like it."_

_ "Probably not. Anyway, we'll be extra careful on the way, and it's really not that far after all. They're sendin' a jet to pick us up in Dallas."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Ever tried shipping yourself overseas? It's not easy."_

_ "Do they know I'm with you?"_

_ "Of course!"_

_ "And Optimus Prime's going to let me just waltz into their military base?"_

_ "Ironhide might flip, but that's just him. With ya bein' a Neutral and all now, no one's gonna care, and if they do, they'll have to deal with me and Prime."_

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Help Unexpected

'Flip' was a mild word when compared to Ironhide's reaction when told of their imminent arrival. Cannons whirring and battle visor quivering, ready to snap down, the weapons specialist growled, "What do you mean, Prime? Why is _he_ coming?"

"Neutrals are more than welcome to join us at any time," Optimus said, keeping his voice level, despite his frustration – he'd been counting on Ironhide's help in keeping the other Autobots calm when they learned the news, but the older mech's hatred of Decepticons, even former ones, could not be ignored. Perhaps telling the weapons specialist first had been a bad idea, but there was nothing the Prime could do about it now. "I don't ask you to forgive him any atrocities he committed while serving under Megatron, but his presence here is necessary for Katrina's well-being, and his. You know what guardianship is like," he added, a slight hint of reproach in his otherwise calm voice. "Would you deny him peace of mind, because of a past he cannot change? Barricade-" Optimus's optics flashed when Ironhide's cannons grew louder, and the other mech quieted his systems before he earned a reprimand. "Barricade," the Prime continued, "will be restricted to a small area, along with Katrina, Frenzy and Morse."

"Frenzy is coming as well?"

"It appears he is part of the reason they were attacked in the first place. Soundwave is after him."

"Can we hand him over, then? The fewer 'Cons around here, the better."

"No," said Optimus firmly. "I offered them hospitality and will not betray their trust."

"I didn't offer them anything," Ironhide grumbled, then vented air at the look on his leader's face. "All right, I won't shoot them if they do as they're told, but one wrong step..." His whirring cannons completed his sentence nonverbally.

"Very well," the Prime sighed, knowing that was the best he could hope for. "Thank you, Ironhide. I need to tell the others about this. Would you give me a hand, please?"

* * *

_Blackness everywhere, muttering voices that she half-recognized giving orders she could not understand while cold fingers drifted across her face and arms. Machinery hissing in the background, then sudden brightness that blinded her, making her long for the banished darkness..._

Her bed felt less comfortable than usual, and Katrina mumbled sleepily as she tried adjusting her position, only to find herself strapped down. In panic, she struggled against the restraint, which gave way, and the girl relaxed a little, opening her eyes. She wasn't lying in bed, but was sitting in Jazz's front passenger's seat, Frenzy curled up like a dog on the floor by her feet, Morse resting in altmode on her lap. The straps holding her were nothing more than a secured seatbelt. Breathing a sigh of relief, Katrina leaned back and closed her eyes.

"Ya okay?" Jazz asked, concerned, his voice emitting from his speakers rather than the mouth of the hologram that was pretending to drive the Pontiac. "Ya sounded like ya were havin' a bad dream."

"I'm fine," said the girl, taking a deep breath to calm the shivers going down her spine. "Where are we?" she added, peering out her window. There was little to see, an occasional street lamp standing tall and imposing beside the road, a few trees lining the side and the occasional spatter of stars peeping from behind the storm clouds that had rolled in while she'd slept.

"In the middle of nowhere," Jazz answered. "We couldn't stay in that town any longer, remember?"

"Where are we going?"

"We're not sure yet," said the Autobot, feeling horrible about lying, but not daring to tell her the truth until he had no choice.

_He's not telling me something,_ Katrina decided, hearing the slight edge on her guardian's voice, but she didn't question him further. "Frenzy?"

The little mech stirred, then his optics flickered a bit before on-lining completely. "Ohhhh, everything hurts," he moaned, not exaggerating a lot. His nannites had worked overtime during his recharge to repair the vital components that had been damaged during the fight with Rumble, but many less severe injuries still remained.

"Maybe I should-"

"No," chorused three voices at once, cutting off Katrina's offer of help. Barricade's voice had come from Morse's speakers, and the cell phone quivered, then changed shape into a spider that loudly clicked his protest.

NO DO, he insisted for the girl's benefit, while transmitting to the police car, _"No do that!"_

_ "Sorry if I disturbed you,"_ replied the Neutral, not sounding like he meant it. _"Jazz was transmitting one way, so I couldn't respond through his speakers."_

_ "Which is just the way I like it,"_ the Autobot interjected. _"Havin' people transmit their voices through me makes my vocal processors ache."_

"Makes my head ache, too," Katrina grumbled, rubbing her temples.

"Did ya hear that?" asked Jazz, managing to not sound as guilty as he felt. For a brief moment, he'd forgotten about her occasional involuntary eavesdropping and its related pain.

"Just the last part." Cupping Morse in her hands, the girl raised him to eye level. "Does transmitting others make you hurt, too?"

NO. The spider shook his head in adamant denial. FINE.

She breathed a sigh of relief and set him down, then leaned forward, studying Frenzy, concern in her eyes. "How bad is it, Frenzy?"

With a shrug, the mech curled up on the floor again, planning on returning to his recharge. "Would-not-want-to-face-Rumble-again-anytime-soon."

"Should have let me slag the little..." Jazz trailed off at a short burst of warning static from Barricade.

"He was already unconscious, and not about to come after us," said the girl, looking down at her hands, which had curled into fists. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her fingers and spread them out in her lap, trying not to think about the feeling she'd gotten the moment she pulled the gun's trigger and stopped the Decepticon in his tracks. _I shouldn't feel guilty, he hurt Frenzy and Morse. He would have hurt me, too, if I hadn't run when Frenzy told me to... No reason to feel like I did something wrong._ Against her will, her hands squeezed shut again, and she closed her eyes, then rested her forehead on the cool window glass.

"Katrina?" Worried about his charge, Jazz slowed his speed, a move that was matched by the other two cars, not without questioning from both, which he ignored, preferring to focus on the girl, who was acting strange. "Is everythin' all right?"

"What?" A frown crossed her face, then she sat up and gave a short nod. "Sorry, Jazz, I'm fine," she murmured, shifting into a more comfortable position. "Where are we going?"

"Ya asked me that already," said the Autobot, wondering if she knew he'd lied before. "We're not sure yet."

"All right," she said, so quietly he almost missed the words. "Is Sunstreaker with us?"

"Yeah. Why'd ya ask?"

"No reason." Katrina let her breathing rhythm even out, until it at least sounded like she had fallen asleep, though the thoughts tumbling through her mind would not let her do so for real. _If Sunstreaker's with us, doesn't that mean we're going to the Autobots' headquarters? Or is he staying because he was assigned to protect me? I should have ridden with Barricade, he'd tell me the truth. Or would he? Neither he, nor Frenzy, ever mentioned Soundwave's connection with Frenzy._ Images flashed through her mind, snapshots of the fight – Rumble's blazing red optics, Frenzy ducking a strike even as he retaliated with his slicing disks, Morse crouched on the wall, the gun gleaming in her hands, her finger on the trigger... _I almost didn't shoot._ It scared her to admit the fact, but at the same time brought her a sense of relief. _It could have meant Frenzy's death, but I almost didn't shoot, because...I was scared. Why?_ So many questions behind that single word, and she had no answers. _I suppose there's no point in worrying about what ifs..._

Sudden sharp pain lanced her mind, and she cried out, but received no response, because the transmission she'd picked up was being sent over a general channel to all her companions, who listened in stunned silence to the words the all too familiar speaker conveyed.

_"Autobots, man-made sparkling and deserters, it is my pleasure to announce that you've run out of luck. Megatron's on his way and you'll be dismantled at his pleasure without any hope of mercy. Did I mention he's had a cage made for that fleshling pet of yours?"_

Taking deep breaths as the ache faded away, Katrina managed to ask, "Who is that?" She was not startled when no one answered, and even less surprised when Jazz's engine roared loudly and the trees flickering by outside the window blurred into a solid mass. The lights that lined the highway at night looked like shooting stars streaking past, then became a wavering yellow line against a dark green background. Jazz's speedometer, accurate or not, had reached the highest speed – 200 mph – and the needle pushed against the bar there. However tempting it was to know what speed they were actually going, the girl kept her mouth shut, not willing to ask while moving at their current pace. Her guardian would need all his concentration to keep from hitting any car foolish enough to drift into his path.

Morse collapsed into altmode and rang, and Katrina answered automatically. "Yes?"

_"If you haven't recognized the voice of that whining backstabber-"_

The girl shook her head and frowned, not at the comment but towards an odd experience. Why did it seem like she was hearing the words twice, once through Morse's speakers and a few seconds later as an echo in her mind?

"-_the person you just heard was Starscream."_ Barricade's voice filled with contempt when he spoke the Decepticon's name.

The echoing had been followed by a dim headache, but the girl ignored both. "Shouldn't he be trying to capture us instead of making empty threats and giving out information like that?" _I don't like the sound of that cage. Hope it was an empty threat like the rest. Megatron wouldn't come after me, would he? I thought he'd told them to terminate me, not capture me... Not that being killed is better than being in a cage._ Katrina shuddered.

_"The only good trait Starscream has _is_ his backstabbin' ways,"_ Jazz chuckled, hiding his concern about his charge for the moment. _"Yellin' all that at us means we now know Megatron's gotten involved in the hunt, and can plan ahead."_

"Right," the girl muttered, relaxing a little. "Starscream is on his own side, so if giving us the information means Megatron doesn't capture us as he'd like to, and his not capturing us means Starscream benefits in some way-"

_"Exactly,"_ said Barricade. _"But we'll move fast, just in case this turns out to be an elaborate trap."_

_ "Since when has Megatron been able to think up a complicated trap that actually works?"_

_ "Ah could think of a few, Sunny."_

_ "Jazz, how many times have I asked you not to call me that?"_

_ "No idea. Ah stopped countin' a long time ago."_

"Perhaps you could take this conversation elsewhere if you're not speaking with me anymore?" Katrina suggested, sensing a long argument on the horizon. "Or maybe someone could tell me where we're headed." Dead silence met her inquiry, and the girl sighed. "You're taking me to the government, aren't you?"

Barricade must have decided avoiding the topic any longer was unnecessary. _"In a way. We're headed for NEST headquarters, which is a classified division of the US military that works with the Autobots against the Decepticons."_ Her guardian sounded almost guilty. _"It's only temporary and if they try anything funny we'll leave at once, understand? If you don't want to go there, we won't, but right now it's the best – perhaps the only – safe place we have available. Especially with Soundwave after us."_

Nodding, though she knew her guardian couldn't see her, Katrina whispered, "I understand. It's okay." Shutting Morse's altmode, she set him on her lap and leaned back, closing her eyes. _No, it's not okay. Military or not, it's still part of the government, and there might even be people in NEST who were part of the Project._ Just thinking about it made the girl's heart rate accelerate. _At least Barricade and Jazz will be with me. They'll protect me._ Smiling, Katrina curled up in her seat and rested her head against the door. _It would be nice to see the Autobots again, and maybe Sam and his family will be there... But Mikaela might be, too, and she asks a lot of questions._ Her smile faded a little, then grew again. _At least Simmons won't be there, he got fired._ Cheered by that memory, she'd almost faded off to sleep when another thought crossed her mind. _Prowl mentioned Galloway, which means he must be part of NEST._ Smile gone, the girl squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else before she demanded her guardians turn around immediately. _He tried to get the Autobots to leave and now that they saved the world again, maybe he'll get fired like Simmons did._ She didn't have much hope for it, though, and it was a long time before she finally dropped off into a fitful slumber that held her captive for the rest of the trip to Dallas.


	13. Little Pleasures

This is three or four days late... Got back Saturday from our second vacation and I was WIPED. Still am. Doesn't help that we've been running around nonstop since then. Much as I love our Corolla (who just turned 1 on Aug 1st, btw!), driving around all day in him is _not _enjoyable.

I'm taking some college classes this year and I start next Monday. Can't wait! Unfortunately that means that beyond that point, updates may be less than punctual, since I'm not sure yet how hard it's going to be. Wish me luck!

I know I always say this, but I really, truly mean it - THANK YOU for faving, alerting and _especially_ for reviewing. It makes me feel good to know the time and effort I put into writing this and my other fics is appreciated.

Now I'll stop boring you to death with this AN and let you read the chapter...

_EDIT 8/25/2010: A reviewer brought a slight mistake to my attention. Namely, I wrote a sentence in such a way it appeared Frenzy was asking for a granola bar, not a handheld game. Oops! It has been corrected. Many thanks to Standout4Christ for catching that!_

_____corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Starscream to Nemesis."_

_ "Report."_

_ "Our squishy target has left its home and is headed southeast with its Autobot allies and the traitors Barricade and Frenzy. Should I pursue?"_

_ "Keep your distance. When they stop running, let me know. I intend to complete some unfinished business. How is Rumble, by the way? Soundwave hasn't heard anything for a while and is becoming...concerned."_

_ "Rumble is in stasis lock until repairs are complete."_

_ "What happened?"_

_ "The retrieval of Frenzy failed-"_

_ "Yes, I gathered that from your report."_

_ "-and during their fight the squishy fired some sort of weapon that knocked them both out."_

_ "Interesting. It took out its own ally in order to stop the enemy. No wonder it didn't stay with the Autobots, it's almost Decepticon in nature..."_

_ "It's just a squishy, Megatron."_

_ "That's Lord Megatron to you, Starscream. I want you to watch our target carefully. It's beginning to regain my interest."_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Little Pleasures

In the late morning, Dallas Airport bustled with activity, and Jazz didn't wake Katrina, too busy navigating the place. He avoided buses racing in to drop off passengers and rental cars zooming around as he tried to follow the directions posted on signs while making sure Barricade and Sunstreaker stuck with him. Police cruiser altmode or not, the Neutral ignored human signals when he felt like it, and Sunstreaker was still unfamiliar with their way of driving. Several times screeching brakes threatened to wake the human girl, but after a few sharp commands from Jazz, who fortunately outranked Sunstreaker enough that the arrogant Autobot would listen to him, they managed to make their way to the private jet airstrip where they would be meeting their escort.

Who happened to be late. Jazz and the others parked on the side of the runway, all too aware of how conspicuous they were, and waited, hoping the jet would arrive soon. Barricade monitored air traffic control transmissions while Sunstreaker and Jazz did their best to not call attention to themselves. Their efforts were in vain. A few minutes after they'd parked, two police cruisers came down the runway, sirens wailing, and officers jumped out to surround the vehicles.

"You are in violation of airport safety protocols," one of the men yelled at them. "Step out of your vehicles and place your hands on your heads. We're taking you into custody."

_"Want me to deal with this jerk?"_ Sunstreaker asked, revving his engine.

_"No, I will. Jazz, would you hack their computer database?"_ Barricade rolled down the window nearest the police officer in charge and made his hologram say, "Excuse me, sir, but we have permission to wait here for our transport."

"I'll have to see the paperwork for that."

"Check your systems, it should be there." _At least, it will be if Jazz got my hint and didn't let his foolish morals get in the way._

If the officer had any protests, they were cut off by the approaching roar of a jet engine. A large, military issue jet was headed for the airstrip, intending to land, and the police returned to their vehicles and drove away.

_Good riddance_, the Neutral thought, then dismissed the matter as he turned his attention to the incoming carrier plane. Fat, white and transmitting to the control tower in proper way, but Barricade – even though he'd sent Starscream packing himself (with a little help from Jazz) – didn't let his guard down until the C-17 had actually landed, let down the boarding ramp and three men, two in jeans and ragged t-shirts, one in a casual grey suit, hurried out. Sure, about twelve hours ago the Seeker had been an F22 Raptor, but that didn't mean he couldn't change his disguise any time he liked, and there were other Decepticons who had larger aerial forms and could no doubt be contacted if the Seeker wished.

_"Recognize the humans?"_ Barricade asked Jazz, since he had a tendency to forget the difference between one human and another, with the sole exception of Katrina.

_"Major Lennox, Sergeant Epps and...Ex-S7 Agent Simmons."_ Though he sounded pleased about the first two, the Autobot's enthusiasm vanished when he named the third man, and it didn't take long for the Neutral to remember who Simmons was. _"Katrina's not goin' t' like this."_

_ "So we get onboard before she wakes up."_ Barricade's hologram got out and moved to intercept the three humans. "Identify yourselves."

"Major Lennox," the lead man said coolly. "You must be Neutral Barricade?"

"This is my hologram, yes."

"Cool it with the hologram talk 'til we're onboard," interrupted Jazz's hologram, running over to join the group. "No need t' interrogate them, Barricade. If ya don't mind, Major, we'll load up before Katrina wakes up, 'cause she's not gonna be pleased t'see him." The hologram nodded in Simmons's direction. "Might want t' tuck him away in some cubbyhole 'til we get back t' base."

"Tempting as that suggestion might be, Simmons was sent _because_ he knows Katrina," Lennox said, clapping a hand on the ex-agent's shoulder. "Besides, he's a changed man – took down a giant Decepticon almost by himself."

"We can let Katrina be the judge of that." Barricade's hologram returned to his altmode and he revved his engine, then transmitted through the handheld radio dangling from the major's belt, _"Let's move out before we have some unwelcome company that goes by the name of Starscream."_

"Just drive up the ramp. It'll be a bit cramped, but the trip is a short one." Lennox checked his watch. "Should be just in time for lunch tomorrow."

_"That long? How did ya get here in time t' meet us?"_

"Took a Raptor to Washington, then got on this plane and flew the rest of the way," Epps explained. "We'll make good time going home, but be glad you don't have to eat flight rations."

"All right, let's move out," ordered Lennox, glancing at the sky. "Like you said, I'd rather we didn't see any Decepticons today."

"I'll be hiding in the bathroom if anyone needs me," Simmons said, turning on his heel. "Let me know when we're back at the base."

"Right, I almost forgot. Another reason it's taking a little longer than planned is we have to make a slight detour to Brooklyn in order to drop a certain someone off at their cozy little meat shop."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out, and Simmons stopped, turned around, folded his arms and glared at the major. "When was _that_ decision made?"

"Galloway's orders, radioed in a few minutes before we landed. Now, if you'd like to save us some time, we could leave you here and you could make your own way home-"

"Oh, no, you're not leaving me behind, here or in Brooklyn. Orders or no orders, I-"

"Civilians are not supposed to be present on military bases without proper authorization. Sam and Mikaela shouldn't even be there, but they're both major Decepticon targets, so we have to keep them under guard. You, on the other hand-"

"If it wasn't for me that big vacuum cleaner would have destroyed the pyramid completely and we might not have a sun!" Simmons shouted, his face getting red with anger.

Lennox raised his own voice. "I understand that, but orders are still orders."

"What's going on?" Katrina murmured, sleepily opening her eyes. "Jazz? Who's yelling?"

"Don't worry about it. Ya should sleep, ya still got bags under yer eyes."

Sitting, the girl shook her head. "No, I'm not tired... Oh, _slag_, is that _Simmons?_"

"Language," Jazz warned, glad his charge was not riding with her other guardian – he didn't want yet another lecture from Barricade on why it wasn't a good idea to teach Katrina swear words, even by accident. "They just brought him along t' drop off at his home on the way. No need t' worry, ya don't even have t' speak with him if ya don't wanna, okay?"

"At his home? What do you mean?" Katrina didn't recognize the other two men, but they were with Simmons and that was enough to make her worry. "Who are the others?"

"Major Lennox and Sergeant Epps. Don't worry, they're nice guys. They work with Optimus and the others. Ironhide's guardian t' Lennox and his family."

"Lennox?" That name rang a slight bell of recognition, and further examination of the remaining two men told the girl that she might have seen one of them before. "He was a captain, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, he got a promotion sometime in the past year. D'ya want t' say hello and congratulate him?"

Shaking her head, the girl sank in her seat. "I'll do it later." If she stayed with Jazz, she wouldn't have to face Simmons, who didn't rank at all on her list of people she trusted. "When are they dropping Simmons off?"

"Not sure. Why are ya so anxious t'get rid of him? He rescued ya from the police, remember?"

Katrina shrugged. "He was also part of Sector Seven. That's more than enough reason not to trust him."

"He helped defeat the Decepticons in Egypt."

"I don't care."

"Jazz-you-need-to-move-before-they-leave-us," Frenzy chattered, interrupting the conversation as he climbed onto the dashboard and began hopping up and down, pointing out the windshield at the jet. Barricade, closely followed by Sunstreaker, was almost inside the jet.

"Thanks, little buddy. Guess it's time t' roll out." Jazz moved forward until he was almost bumper to bumper with the other Autobot. During his and Katrina's conversation, the three humans had moved into the jet and he couldn't see them anymore, though his sensors picked them up – they were near the front, buckling into seats. "Katrina, Ah think ya'd better ride in an actual seat on the jet. It'd be safer."

"I want to stay here," the girl protested, curling up in her seat and closing her eyes. A tap on the window had her eyes flying open and she peered suspiciously out the window. Major Lennox stood there, and he beckoned with an impatient look on his face.

"You can't stay in there during the flight, Katrina," he said, voice muffled a little by the thick pane of glass-like substance that separated them. "It's against regulations. Don't worry, Epps and I won't bite, and Simmons won't give you any trouble, either, or we'll do to him what we did to Galloway." At the mention of Galloway, the girl ducked down and refused to look up again, even when the major tapped on the window.

"I'm not stupid enough to open a parachute while still on the jet," Simmons snapped, not realizing that the major had already forgotten his threat, too busy trying to get the girl's attention.

"Katrina, ya really need t' get out," said Jazz. "Don't worry, Ah'll be right here, and so will Barricade and Sunny. We won't let anythin' happen t' ya, Ah promise."

"I-come-with-you," Frenzy added, transforming into his altmode as he jumped from the dashboard in Katrina's lap – Morse managed to hop onto his friend's shoulder just in time to avoid being crushed.

ME TOO, chirped the little spider, rubbing against the girl's cheek.

"All right," Katrina sighed, having lost the argument. "I'll ride in a jet seat."

Jazz opened his front passenger's door. "Thanks, Katrina."

"You're welcome," she muttered, cupping one hand around Morse and grasping Frenzy's handle with the other. "Where do you want me to sit?" she asked Lennox, keeping a good distance between them. Nice or not, he was still military, still part of the government.

"You can sit right by me," Epps said, waving a hand to get her attention. "And I don't blame you if you hate the guy's guts for some reason or another, but rumor has it Simmons brought some games along to keep you occupied during the trip."

Katrina had a slight feeling of déjà vu – Simmons had done the same thing when she'd been snuck out of a military base and taken to Tranquility. _He must have brought them for the same reason as he did then,_ she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. _Wants to keep me quiet so I don't bother anyone, or do anything weird. Not that that saved his phone._ A grin spread across the girl's face and she let her hand fall, revealing Morse. "Speaking of games and such, do you want your phone back?" she asked innocently.

Simmons's only reaction was a slight raising of eyebrows. "A few months ago, that thing would still be freaky enough to startle me, but after recent events, it barely even rates as strange now. By the way, you owe me several hundred dollars. Apparently that thing still registers on the phone company's billing list, despite my several attempts to cancel it following its disappearance."

Recorded laughter burst from Frenzy's speakers, followed by a slight shock that made Katrina drop him. He transformed and landed in a half-crouch, still laughing. "What-do-you-think-Katrina-nice-joke-yes?"

Random clicking from Morse signaled his mirth, and the girl's smile, which had faded a bit when she hadn't gotten the reaction she'd expected from the ex-agent, grew again. "You _didn't_."

DID.

"Why you little-" Simmons's charge toward the two mechs was intercepted by Lennox and Epps.

"Calm down," Lennox said, steering the ex-agent over to the nearest seat and forcing him to sit. "Katrina, I'll have to ask you to control those two, or let Jazz watch them until we get to the base."

"Morse, Frenzy, that wasn't very nice and I want you to fix whatever you did as soon as possible," Katrina scolded, but her grin made it clear she wasn't mad at them – quite the opposite, in fact. In a much better mood, the girl sat down beside the sergeant, who passed her two bulging backpacks.

"I grabbed some things for you, too," he said. "Clothes were Simmons's idea, though, and if you're anything like a normal teenage girl, you'll probably be glad he remembered."

Katrina scowled, not about to take Epps's hint and thank the ex-agent. "Actually, I have my own clothes."

Jazz's engine rumbled softly, a gentle scolding that needed no words, and the girl sighed, shooting Simmons an annoyed glance. "Thanks," she muttered, then busied herself in opening the first backpack, which turned out to be a jumble of handheld games, various candy and granola bars, a few half-crumpled bags of chips, and clothes, most of which seemed to be close to her size. Biting back a sigh, she unwrapped a chocolate chip granola bar and began munching on it while deciding which game to try first.

Frenzy leaned over her armrest. "Can-I-try-a-game?"

"Sure." Katrina leaned back and let the mech sift through until he found something interesting, then glanced at Morse. "You want one, too?"

NO. SLEEP. The little spider jumped into her lap, curled up, and let his optics dim.

Careful, so as not to disturb her friend, the girl set down the backpack and pulled the first game her fingers touched out of the bag, then gulped down the last of her granola bar as she switched it on. The graphics weren't too bad, and it took only a few minutes of fiddling to figure out how the controls worked. Settled down in the comfortable seat, the restraining harness resting gently against her shoulders, Katrina did her best to relax.


	14. Interception

A bit early with an update this time, but it was either today or wait until next Sunday. Every now and then I remember to throw in the disclaimer, so...

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Transformers! If I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time with college. I'd be living next to the beach in PEI, writing original fic and fanfic 24/7. If only... However, I DO own my OCs, so please request permission to use them.

EDIT: This is proof of how brain-fried college has made me... I forgot to say THANK YOU to all my reviewers! Reviews always make me happy/motivated to write. Thanks so much!

And so the action finally begins...

_____corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Starscream to Nemesis."_

_ "What is it now?"_

_ "Target's destination confirmed."_

_ "Next time, pass this information to Soundwave, no need to wake me in the middle of a recharge cycle."_

_ "I thought you, our ingenious leader, would personally like to deal with the situation. They are headed for the Autobot headquarters. Should I intercept?"_

_ "Not yet. Skywarp and Thundercracker are headed for you right now, estimated ETA less than one Earth hour. Five breems at most."_

_ "Orders pending on their arrival?"_

_ "Once they join you, _then_ you can attack. Don't forget that I want the squishy alive, Starscream. If it is off-lined in your attempt to capture it, I will not be pleased. The others are expendable, waste no time with them, though you should off-line the Autobots and traitors if possible."_

_ "Yes, Megatron."_

_ "I missed part of that transmission. Please repeat it carefully."_

_ "Yes, _Lord_ Megatron. I will do as you command. Starscream out."_

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Interception

Ten hours into the trip, Katrina was teetering at the edge of total boredom. Handheld games could keep her entertained for only so long before they all drifted together in her mind, and at last she set aside her current game, which she was very close to losing, and sighed.

"Uh oh," Epps said, glancing up from the magazine he was reading. "I know that sound of utter boredom. My wife makes it when she wants to leave a party but doesn't want to be rude to the hosts."

"Your wife gets you to be rude for her?" asked Lennox, grinning. "Sarah's the same."

"Looks like someone's bored," Jazz remarked before the conversation could become anymore tangential, his hologram flickering into existence. "Wanna play some two player games? Maybe we can convince Barricade t'play as well. What d'ya say, Barricade?"

_"No, thank you,"_ came the icy reply, emitted from the Neutral's speakers. _"I was trying to recharge in peace, by the way."_

"If another sq-er, human plays, we can do Autobots against Humans," Sunstreaker suggested, making his hologram appear beside Jazz's. "Or perhaps all four humans can play against us, to make it even. Even in these constructs we've got better speed and stamina."

"That sounds like a challenge," Epps said, setting his magazine aside and cracking his knuckles. "What do you say, Major? Shall we kick their sorry a-" Jazz coughed loudly, and the sergeant didn't finish his sentence, instead glancing toward his superior officer, who shook his head.

"I don't do well with those things, but you have permission to accept their challenge." Lennox smirked, grabbing the magazine Epps had set down. "In fact, I order you to do so. Good luck."

A quick mental trip to the internet and Sunstreaker understood the object of the game they chose to play. Once a few extra rules were set in place – no using cheats, hacking, or moving holographic fingers at speeds greater than a human could achieve allowed – the players began, two Autobots against two humans. Epps proved his worth as his character dashed around the screen, overtaking Jazz's avatar within seconds. Soon they were far in the lead, leaving Katrina and Sunstreaker to fight over what was left. Frenzy and Morse got into the spirit of the game – the Neutral grew so loud with his cheering that the pilot got on the intercom and insisted that his passengers quiet down before they found themselves ejected from the cargo bay. While that command had the opposite effect, a short word from Barricade shut Frenzy up, though the mech continued to bounce with excitement as he leaned on Katrina's chair's arm in order to get a better view of her progress.

When wind began to buffet the carrier plane hard enough to shake it, players simply adjusted for the change and continued playing, oblivious to the fact that the pilot could have and should have adjusted for the turbulence. Perhaps, in the heat of the increasingly intense game, the Autobots and Neutrals stopped monitoring their surroundings. Despite this, the C-17's scanners should have picked something up. Maybe the sudden tumult of wind the plane had struck kept the pilot from watching the radar screen for a crucial moment, and provided sufficient distraction for the mechs as well. Whatever the reason, no one noticed the F-22s sneaking up behind before it was too late.

A deep, resonant boom came from the nose, causing everyone in the cargo bay to freeze and glance in that direction. When a second, louder bang followed the first, Barricade, Jazz and Sunny transformed, weapons sliding out. Epps tossed the game he held aside and dove for his gun. Lennox already held his, ready to fire if need be.

"Major...get out..." came a rattling gasp over the intercom, and the pilot's last act before the cockpit separated from the plane and did a swift nosedive toward the distant ocean was to press the cargo hatch release button.

"Get your parachutes, we have to bail," Lennox shouted over the wind whistling through the cargo bay. "Jazz, you and the other two go first, now."

"Katrina!" Barricade shouted, but Epps had grabbed the girl's arm, snatched a spare parachute, and was helping her strap into it, his fingers flying across the buckles, adjusting straps to fit her smaller frame.

"We gotta go," Jazz ordered, grabbing one of the larger parachutes that had been altered to fit an Autobot's physique and throwing it to Sunstreaker. He tossed another to the Neutral, then took one for himself. "Follow me, 'Cade, it's easy."

"We had a deal regarding your use of that horrible nickname!" Barricade lunged at the Autobot, who hopped out of the plane just in time, leaving the Neutral clutching thin air a second before he also fell, spitting curses after Jazz as he struggled into the parachute he still held.

Sunstreaker followed a few seconds later, muttering about saltwater being bad for his paint.

"Your turn," Lennox told Katrina, leading her over to the exit ramp. "Listen, just jump, then pull this handle." He indicated the correct one, then pointed at a tab dangling from the bottom of the harness. "When you hit the water, yank this out, it'll release the parachute and inflate your life jacket. Got it?"

She nodded, white-faced and shaking, the hand not gripping the handle for releasing the parachute curled around Morse in her pocket. "F-frenzy," the girl managed to say, releasing the handle long enough to reach toward her friend, who evaded Epps's attempt to give him a parachute and leapt at Katrina, latching his arms around her waist.

"I-go-with-Katrina," he insisted, voice shaking more than usual, and not with excitement.

"Time to go," Lennox said, knowing they didn't have time to argue. "We'll be right behind you, Katrina. Whatever you do, don't panic. Just pull the handle and enjoy the ride. Jump on my mark. Ready, set, jump _now_!"

Taking a deep breath, the girl leapt into open space, releasing the air she'd just inhaled in a long, drawn out scream. Frenzy let out a shrill sound of terror and Morse joined in with a loud whistle, huddled as he was in Katrina's jacket pocket, legs buried in the material to prevent himself from falling out should the girl remove her protective hand.

White-knuckled fingers resisted the order to move for a brief, heart-stopping moment, then Katrina managed to yank the handle hard and was rewarded by the sharp snap of the parachute being unfurled. Below she could see the three mechs, parachutes spread like vast patches of color over the uniform blue ocean. Their parachutes, to her amusement, had the Autobot insignia on the tops, and briefly the girl wondered what Barricade must think about that.

Then a powerful explosion from above had her craning her head back, trying in vain to glimpse something beyond the bright white of her parachute's canopy. Fire crackled around the edges – not on the parachute itself, but part of the scene taking place behind the shielding cloth – and when pieces of C-17 began passing her, headed for their final watery grave, Katrina guessed the carrier plane had been destroyed, along with the pilot. She tried to feel sorry about his death, but the girl didn't even know his name, and there were more immediate problems, like the identity of their assailants.

Ripping fabric warned Katrina of danger a second before the parachute collapsed around her, all but smothering the girl, who cried out in surprise. Frenzy babbled something unintelligible, his grip around her waist becoming tighter and very painful as sharp edges on his arms dug into her flesh. The last thing Katrina noticed was the fact that despite being bundled up in the parachute it felt like she was still dangling from it, the harness continuing to dig into her body at its contact points. Then a loud popping sound preceded a sudden plunge into horrible silent blackness that ripped another scream from her throat, one that the girl voiced but never heard, because by the time she could have registered the sound, Katrina was unconscious.

* * *

"It's Starscream's trine!" Barricade shouted, powering up his cannon and trying to get a shot at the fleeing jets, which jigged across the sky in total randomness. The parachute he dangled from did not help the Neutral at all, it soon blocked the Decepticons from sight and Barricade was forced to acknowledge temporary defeat, since his scanners were being jammed, a technique that all but screamed of the Decepticon second in command. "Jazz, did you see them?" he demanded, several cannon bursts his only answer. Apparently both Autobots still had the jets in their sights. Whether the humans were not firing due to their weapons' short range, or for another reason, the Neutral couldn't tell, but it frustrated him that he could do nothing but float slowly down toward the caustic ocean waters. He was going to need a lot of repairs if the saltwater got into his joints, the mech noted, but his main concern at the moment was the whereabouts of his charge.

Frenzy's signal cut out suddenly, and Neutral roared in anger. If his sidekick was dead, he'd make the Seekers pay a heavy price. If only he could see them. For a moment Barricade considered dumping his parachute in order to get a better view, but the ocean still lay close to a thousand feet below, and at that distance, he didn't trust he'd come out of the impact in one piece. Getting himself damaged for a momentary advantage was an amateur's tactic, and the Neutral was anything but an amateur when it came to war.

However, that didn't stop him from calling to his fellow guardian in hopes of good news. "Jazz, what's going on?"

"Scanners jammed," grunted the Autobot, not having much breath to spare for comforting words. "Got Starscream and Thundercracker in my sights, no sign of Skywarp."

"I saw Skywarp leave a minute ago!" Sunstreaker yelled. "You're not going to like this, Jazz, he's got your squi-I mean, human's parachute. Probably has the human as well."

"Oh, hell..." prefaced colorful cursing from both soldiers, making it clear beyond doubt which human exactly had been captured.

"He got Katrina?" Barricade snarled, slamming a clenched fist against his leg and ignoring the flair of pain sensors. "Slagging Autobot, why didn't you take him down?"

"I didn't think you'd want me running the risk of hitting your human. Besides, he disappeared a few seconds after I spotted him." Uncharacteristically, the Autobot paused a moment, then mumbled, "I'm sorry, Jazz."

"No use apologizin', ya did the best ya could. Now we gotta do the same. Ah'm contactin' Prime."

"What about the other two?" growled Barricade, bringing out his cannon, not that it could do him much good, blind as he was. The jamming signal faded and his scanners returned to full strength, telling him what his eyes could not see, that the two remaining Seekers had fled out of sight and scanner range.

"They're gone," Jazz replied unnecessarily. "Prime says there's a boat on the way t' pick us up. They'll send out a search party soon as we get there and brief them."

"As soon as we land, I'm leaving," Barricade snapped. "Katrina's been in Decepticon hands once, and if I hadn't done what I did, she wouldn't have survived."

"Maybe she has a habit of making Decepticons defect," Sunstreaker suggested, the barest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Perhaps she'll be back, perfectly unharmed with a Seeker in tow. Or maybe Megatron himself."

"That's enough," said Jazz, unable to hide his distress. "We'll get her back, Barricade, Ah promise. Prime is already callin' everyone back t' base, and they'll be ready for orders by the time we roll in."

"If you're looking for volunteers, count me in," Epps shouted down. "Poor kid didn't deserve being kidnapped for a second time."

Lennox added his own pledge of aid to his lieutenant's, but the Neutral did not hear it, lost in his own thoughts, self-reproachful ones provoked by Epps's comment. Barricade had been the one to kidnap Katrina for the Deceptions the first time, and had never completely erased the guilt he felt in regards to that incident. Even worse, the Seeker responsible this time was, at his best, a few circuits short of a full motherboard, and a prankster to boot. Barricade vowed then to inflict severe pain on Skywarp if Katrina got so much as a scratch while in said Decepticon's care.


	15. Vexing Choices

Right on schedule, despite RL sucking right now.

Many, many thanks to all you reviewers. You have no idea how much a review can cheer me up on a bad day. THANK YOU!

Please let me know if there are any mistakes, and feel free to offer constructive criticism, too.

_______corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Starscream to Skywarp!"_

_ "'Warp here. What's up, Screamer?"_

_ "You'll get your flight processors jammed up your aft if you continue flying in such a dangerous manner while carrying the squishy. Cease aerial acrobatics until we reach the Nemesis. Same goes for the use of that idiotic nickname."_

_ "That doesn't mean you can start teleporting once we're within sight of the ship, by the way."_

_ "Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time, TC. No teleporting until squishy is offloaded. Why did I have to carry it, anyway? It's not fair! I always get all the dirty jobs."_

_ "We had to get it away from them fast, which meant utilizing your special power. After the initial teleportation, however, there was no need to continue. If it proves dangerous for the squishy, our illustrious leader will be most displeased."_

_ "I still don't see what's so important about the squishy."_

_ "We explained this before, it carries the AllSpark's power."_

_ "But it's so tiny! And organic – the AllSpark would not wish to dwell in such an inferior vessel."_

_ "...shut up...pain...stop...hurts..."_

_ "What in the Pit was _that?_ Starscream?"_

_ "I...I am not sure. It's not Rumble or Frenzy or the little sparkling."_

_ "Could it be the squishy?"_

_ "Not even you, Skywarp, could consider _that_ a possibility."_

_ "Starscream, if it does possess the AllSpark-"_

_ "It does, Thundercracker, I saw the power work myself on Megatron's dead chassis, but I doubt even the AllSpark could make a squishy capable of communicating with us by commlink. Must have been a glitch."_

_ "...pain..."_

_ "Even _I_ can tell that's no glitch, Screamer."_

_ "Skywarp, if this is your twisted idea of a joke..."_

_ "It's not, I swear it on our trinebond!"_

_ "Then maybe we should keep communication to a minimum to until we reach the Nemesis."_

_ "Why do you say that?"_

_ "Because if we can hear it, who's to say it can't hear us?"_

_ "Good point. Don't contact anyone unless it's an emergency. Starscream out."_

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Vexing Choices

Swift as the blackness had swallowed her, it released Katrina with an aching head and the wish to throw up, not something she dared to do without knowing more of her surroundings. Everything seemed dark still, but it was a quiet, gentle dark, not like the stuff from before. Sitting up, the girl found herself enveloped in the parachute, and thrashed about with her arms until she felt clear air brushing against her face. Something brushed her arm, not cloth, and she squeaked, then let out a sigh of relief upon hearing a welcome, familiar voice.

"Katrina-it-is-me-do-not-panic," Frenzy babbled, pressing against her side. "We-are-in-a-lot-trouble. Morse-wants-out."

Grimacing – the pain behind her temples had flared while the little mech spoke – Katrina asked, "How is that trouble?" Fingers groped for her jacket pocket and found it twisted in such a way that it was impossible for Morse to crawl out. "Sorry, Morse," she apologized to her friend as she adjusted the fabric. The spider darted out at the first opportunity, did a three sixty turn that the girl felt rather than saw, then scrambled up his friend's nearest arm and perched on her shoulder.

NOT MEAN ME, clicked the spider, nuzzling Katrina's cheek. YOU OK?

"I'm fine," she said, managing a quick smile. "My head hurts a bit, but don't worry about it. Where are we, Frenzy?" Katrina's heart skipped a beat when she realized the mech all but buried under her arm was shaking like a leaf. "Frenzy?"

"Trouble-trouble-trouble."

Cackling laughter preceded an unfamiliar voice that echoed around them, like they were in a large room. "Welcome aboard Skywarp Skylines, squishy. I do hope you enjoy your prison class voyage to the Decepticon Headquarters aboard the spaceship Nemesis. One way, of course. Halfway if you expel any strange fluids during the ride."

On the verge of tears, Katrina took a deep breath and scooped Morse off her shoulder, pretty sure it would better if he stayed in her pocket, at least until she could be sure he'd be safe out of it. _What am I thinking? There's no place safe if I'm with Decepticons. How did this happen?_ She accidentally voiced the last question aloud, and earned another bout of derisive chuckles that grew loud enough to be painful before her captor – Skywarp, she guessed – responded.

"Completely thanks to my extreme bravery and the Autobots' extreme stupidity," he bragged. "One minute you're flying along, thinking it's a normal day, then BANG! Screamer, TC and I swoop down and blow that stupid piece of squishy slag to bits, deal with the Autobots in the same manner, and swoop out again, unharmed. Not bad, huh? Wishing you picked the other side yet?"

_Jazz, Barricade and Sunstreaker, all dead?_ Unstoppable tears trickled out of the girl's eyes. _NO!_ "Frenzy, is he telling the truth?" she asked, not caring if their captor heard.

"Of course I am!" snapped Skywarp, annoyed that his elegant speech had failed to get the reaction he'd hoped for – namely the squishy pleading to join the Decepticons. He'd been all ready to present her to Megatron and say, "Look, Lord Megatron, I convinced the squishy to join us!" It would have meant extra Energon rations for sure, and his trine would stop treating him like an idiot all the time.

"No-he-is-not-Barricade's-signature-was-still-there-when-he-warped."

"Clever, little traitor, but not clever enough. I warped, but my trine stayed behind to finish them off. Nice of the Autobots to give us such perfect targets. They were just dangling in the air, waiting to be shot down like..." Skywarp trailed off, trying to come up with a suitable simile and failing.

Not that he had any need to finish. Katrina understood at once, and the hope that had sprung to being at Frenzy's comforting words faded to a sharp pang of anguish that overpowered her headache. _It can't be..._ A high-pitched whine came from Frenzy, echoed by Morse, and the girl curled one hand around the spider, wrapping her free arm around the Neutral. He didn't resist, almost limp as he leaned against her, his frame shaking spasmodically with grief. Morse curled into a small, quivering ball, exactly what Katrina wanted to do right then, but she couldn't – wouldn't – let the Decepticon get pleasure from seeing her collapse.

_I never wanted to think about my time with the government again, not even when they told me we were headed for the Autobot base, but I have no choice now._ Katrina closed her eyes, breathed in deeply several times, exhaling in a long, slow sigh. _I need to revert to my old self, the cold, aloof girl who first got dumped on the Witwickys' doorstep. No eye contact, speaking only when spoken to, all feelings suppressed. Frenzy and Morse are in more peril than I am, if Megatron wants me alive, because they could be used to control my actions. Either I protect them as best I can, or I desert them and refuse to work with the Decepticons. Not much of a choice there. I _can't_ abandon them; they're all I have left. Which means Megatron will be able to influence me by threatening them, unless I can think of a way to prevent that. I've got the AllSpark's power, after all, surely there's a way to use it as a defense. But how?_

A few minutes passed. When Katrina at last opened her eyes, they burned with determination. Straightening her back, she pulled away from Frenzy, withdrew the hand wrapped around Morse from her pocket, and folded both hands in her lap.

KATRINA? Morse queried, startled by his friend's sudden stiffness.

"Shhh, Morse," she murmured, clenching her teeth. More than anything, Katrina wanted to pat her friend on the head, tell him it was all right, but it was going to take work to rebuild the shell she'd surrounded herself with most her life. No more visible emotions was the first step, and that included showing affection. _I just hope he and Frenzy understand_, she thought, then closed her eyes again and began the difficult task of distancing herself from everything.

* * *

Skywarp was unsure what the squishy's new behavior meant, and decided to contact his trine leader, not wanting to find out when he landed that the squishy was damaged – both Starscream and Megatron would have his chassis for that. _"Screamer, there's something wrong with the stupid squishy. It stopped making noises and now it's just sitting, staring at the wall."_

A long, crackling sigh came over their commlink. _"Is it still alive?"_

_ "...yes."_ Skywarp said, quickly checking. All vital signs were normal for the squishy. "_I guess so. But it's not doing anything else. It was making liquid come out of its optics before, after I told it that we'd destroyed the Autobots it was travelling with."_

Several hundred miles behind his brother, Starscream almost stalled in midair. _"You fool! If it's present when we give our report to Megatron, it will learn you lied, and that makes things much more difficult. If it expects a rescue, it will be less willing to comply with our demands."_

_ "I thought it might do something interesting," _Skywarp whined. "_Like scream or thrash around."_

_ "Not all squishies react in the same way. If you'd done research like I suggested, you'd know that."_

_ "Yeah, yeah, I'll do that when we get back to ba-ouch! Slagging piece of scrap!"_

_ "What's going on now?"_

_ "Frenzy's attempting to shoot me down from the inside. Hang on, I've got to-"_ Skywarp's commlink fizzled out, causing Starscream and Thundercracker to increase their speed to maximum.

* * *

Acrid scents mixed in Katrina's nose, making it difficult to concentrate on her task. At last she opened one eye and snapped irritably, "What on Earth are you doing, Frenzy?"

Another barrage of shots from the little mech zipped through the air, glowing as they passed through the air and struck hard surface, revealing the metal walls in patches here and there, some spots blackened by previous blasts. "Blasting-our-way-out-of-course," explained the Neutral, pausing his assault just long enough to answer.

"Your weapons are nowhere near powerful enough to damage me," Skywarp grumbled, but a slight hint of pain underlay the mech's warning and encouraged Frenzy to keep firing. "Traitorous slag heap, stop that!"

"If you give us some light, I'll get him to stop," Katrina stated, folding her arms. More than anything, she wanted a relief from the darkness, the recent memory of the strange feeling she'd gotten when it first began making her wary of being unable to see. _I don't dare ask what it was, since he might not know I could sense the entry to...whatever it was. Though Frenzy did say something about warping, didn't he? And the mech's name is Skywarp... I think we've met him before. Yes, he was at the battle last year. There was something strange he could do, what was it?_ The memory she was looking for hovered at the edge of consciousness, slipping away when the girl lunged at it, then was dismissed for the time being as light flooded the immediate area. Blinking against the brightness, Katrina covered her eyes until they stopped watering and adjusted, not about to complain. She was willing to bet the Decepticon would turn the light off immediately if she did.

Once the girl was capable of making out her surroundings, she stalked over to where Frenzy stood and grabbed his shoulders, giving him a slight shake. "Stop it, Frenzy, you'll only make things worse right now, and you need to recharge." She dropped her voice, though no doubt Skywarp would be able to hear her words anyway. "Those wounds Rumble gave you aren't fully healed. Please don't make them worse, I wouldn't trust a Decepticon medic to repair you properly."

This time the jet laughed hard enough that his body shook, and Katrina fell down, unable to keep her balance. She scowled at nowhere in particular while Skywarp announced, "You've got one thing right. There's no such thing as a good Decepticon medic. Might want to listen to the squishy, Frenzy, unless you want Scalpel poking around in your processor under the pretense of repairing a burnt circuit. He's been known to do that, you know."

Grumbling to himself, Frenzy collapsed into his altmode and fell silent, whether because of Katrina's plea or Skywarp's half-threat, the girl wasn't sure. At any rate, she'd fulfilled her side of the bargain for light, and once the room stopped moving, Katrina sat up, gathered Frenzy in her lap, and returned to staring at nothing while she brought the old Katrina back, bit by bit, memory by memory, trained reaction by trained reaction. Already the girl could feel changes taking place as she dredged up the half-forgotten rules she had once lived by every day.

_Kindness from a person one day can become cruelty the next. Do not show emotions, or feel them, and they cannot harm you._ The loss of Jazz and Barricade had been a sharp pain in her heart, now she felt almost nothing when she remembered them. Frenzy and Morse would remain high priorities for her protection, if possible, but only because they had knowledge the Decepticons would probably kill for.

_Take nothing for granted._ Though Katrina welcomed the light, she knew the Decepticon could remove it at anytime. Viewing it as a convenience would make it easier to accept its loss should he decide to shut it down.

_Speak as little as possible, and only when spoken to_. This one effectively sealed the girl's mouth shut. She would say nothing unnecessary from that point on.

Many more rules tumbled out of the dark crevices in her mind, some important, other insignificant or worthless in her present situation. A few she tucked away again, since they were from a point in her life when she had attempted to rebel. One of these Katrina did keep, remembering well the lessons Jazz had taught her regarding the Decepticons' chain of command.

_Orders from a subordinate will be followed only if confirmed by the person in charge._

She altered it a little, allowing herself a quick smirk before returning her expression to a blank, neutral mask.

_Orders from Starscream will be followed only if confirmed by Megatron_. No point getting involved with the internal conflict between the Decepticon leader and his minions.

Another possible wording occurred to her, but the girl dismissed it for the moment, knowing it would be best if she didn't do anything that might try someone's patience until after she learned what the Decepticon plans regarding herself were. Instead she hid it for future reference, in case she decided a little rebellion was in order.

_Orders from Starscream will be followed only if confirmed by Megatron, or if compliance will cause harm to befall either of said Decepticons and/or his plans._

Katrina granted herself one last grin at that, then closed her eyes and continued her preparations.


	16. Into the Fire

Forgive me, this chapter is way, way, WAY overdue... RL took a dive for the worse and I spent the last month and a half without any motivation to write whatsoever. Thank you so much for your patience in waiting for this chapter, and I hope it was worth the wait. :)

Thanks also for reviewing - reviews cheer me up on bad days, delight me on good days, and always inspire me to write! As always, please point out any mistakes you find, I appreciate it!

And, since this AN is already so long, a quick disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN TRANSFORMERS! If I did, well, I'd be relaxing on a beach in PEI right now, not trying desperately to ace my classes while getting college apps together.

Without further ado...

_____corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Hi, Optimus. What's up? Did Katrina and the others get here early?"_

_ "Sam, I am afraid I have bad news. The cargo plane carrying them was shot down by Starscream and his trine."_

_ "You don't mean they're-"_

_ "Except for the pilot, everyone is alive, for now, and a ship is on the way to pick them up, but Katrina has been captured."_

_ "What? No! She's just a kid. Optimus, you've got to do something."_

_ "We cannot rush blindly into this situation. As soon as the others are here, we'll get a search party together."_

_ "How long will that take?"_

_ "The ship has several small jets at its disposal. It will be cramped, but they should be here by tomorrow morning."_

_ "This sucks."_

_ "I must agree with your sentiment, if not your exact wording."_

_ "Did they at least drop Simmons off?"_

_ "Yes, they did, despite his protests. Galloway might be pleased that his request was granted regarding the ex-agent, but I am not. Simmons risked his life in Egypt to help us and is most likely a Decepticon target as much as any NEST member."_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Into the Fire

"A ship will be here in 'bout an hour t' retrieve us," Jazz announced after a somewhat lengthy conversation with his leader. "Fortunately for us, some NEST members were havin' an ocean survival drill a few klicks t' the east from our current position."

"An hour?" Barricade tried to calculate the amount of possible damage to his internal components from that length of exposure to salt water and air, but quickly gave up the task, deciding he didn't want to know. There would definitely be a visit to Ratchet's medbay upon their return, and the Neutral was not looking forward to it at all. Even worse, every second wasted floating around in the ocean, waiting for a rescue, was another second the Decepticons had with Katrina.

Sunstreaker was even more irate, for a far different reason. "An hour? Do you have any idea what salt will do to my paint in an hour? I just repainted my whole chassis, you know, and now I'll need an entire new coat. I don't suppose this rescue boat's going to have any paint on hand?"

"Shut up," growled Barricade, wishing he dared lunge at the yellow Autobot, just to see him flinch. However, they had not been made for floating, and while he could swim well enough to keep his head above water, the Neutral did not want to risk sinking. "There are far more important things than your paint."

"To you, maybe," the vain mech sniffed. "Which way are they coming from, Jazz? I'll swim to meet them."

"We're all gonna swim," said Jazz, even as he indicated the correct direction. "Every breem we can save is one fewer Katrina will have t'spend with those fragging 'Cons."

Barricade decided now was not the time to point out to the silver Autobot that he had just swore, something he'd always complained about Barricade doing around Katrina. Which reminded him, Jazz had used his loathed nickname to get him out of the plane. Granted, the ploy had worked, but it was one tactic the Neutral did not want used on a regular basis. He decided to discuss the matter later. In fact, it could wait until Katrina had been retrieved.

"We'll move faster if the humans hitch rides." Jazz held his hand out to Epps, who latched on with his free hand – the other was digging in a pocket of the vest he wore beneath the life jacket.

"Hey, my phone still works," the sergeant said, pulling out said device. "I've got service, too. Major, you want me to call the base?"

"No, Jazz already did, and there's nothing else we can tell them, anyway. Can I borrow the phone? I should call Sarah and let her know I'm okay."

"Sure." Epps handed the phone over, and Lennox began dialing as Barricade reluctantly picked the major up and set him on his shoulder.

"Don't move," warned the Neutral before swimming after Jazz and Sunstreaker.

"Thanks for the lift," Lennox replied, distracted by the phone ringing in his ear. "Hi, Sarah? It's Will, just wanted to let you know I'm okay. Something's come up and I won't be home as soon as I thought. Tell Annabelle I love her. Yes. Love you. Goodbye." The major hung up and was about to pocket the phone when an idea struck him. "Hey, Epps, Simmons said the phone company was still tracking Morse, do you suppose it might be able to find his location?"

"You'd have to know which phone company, but, yeah, that might be doable!"

"Good thinkin'," Jazz said, glancing over his shoulder. "Barricade, give the phone signal a boost if it needs it, would ya?"

"Sure," Barricade replied, willing to do whatever was needed to find Katrina. Even if it meant carrying around other squishies and working with the Autobots.

* * *

_"Soundwave to Starscream. Report."_

Starscream wasn't surprised the Decepticon intel officer had contacted him, though he had hoped he'd have until reaching the Nemesis to refine his report. There had to be a way to make the squishy think the Autobots and traitor Barricade were dead, while telling his leader the truth in a way that wouldn't get him slagged. For the moment, he settled for a brief explanation that highlighted the good points of their mission. _"Tell Megatron I have his squishy, as well as the Decepticon traitor Frenzy. Thundercracker, Skywarp and I are enroute to _Nemesis_. Starscream out."_ As he terminated the link, the Seeker realized he hadn't mentioned the little spiderlike mech the squishy carried around, and decided it wasn't important enough to bother contacting Soundwave.

_"Starscream, Soundwave wants a report,"_ Thundercracker sent over the trine's personal wavelength. _"What should I tell him?"_

_"We have the squishy and Frenzy and are headed for _Nemesis_,"_ Starscream replied, annoyance permeating his response. _"Same as I just told him. Skywarp, if he contacts you-"_

_ "Yeah, yeah, no need to spell it out for me, I'll just tell him the same thing you two are telling him."_

* * *

A sharp bump as her captor landed brought Katrina out of her meditation, and she stood, watching a section of the hull drop away to form a ramp leading into a dimly lit space that seemed to stretch on forever. Frenzy hovered near her, unwilling to leave his friend alone despite her sudden coldness. He knew better than she or even Morse, who had been a prisoner of Skywarp's trinemate Thundercracker the year before during the last battle, what the Decepticons were capable of doing to their prisoners, and traitors were treated even worse. He doubted even Soundwave would be able to save his chassis this time.

"Welcome to the Nemesis," Skywarp announced in an all too cheerful voice. "Please disembark now, before I decide to transform, which would regrettably squash or crush you, depending on whether you're a mech or a squishy."

Katrina caught a scowl before it could cover her face, and followed Frenzy down the ramp. Sunstreaker calling her squishy a few times had been bad enough, now the rude nickname seemed to have become her designation, at least when it came to the Decepticons. Remembering the brief conversation she had picked up from them before, she wondered again why they hadn't simply killed her on sight. _If even half of Jazz's stories are true, it's not like Starscream to follow Megatron's orders when they're easily disobeyed. He must have plans of his own involving me. That doesn't bode well; I'll have to be extremely cautious around them both._

The girl's rubber-soled shoes made little noise as she walked mechanically along, stopping a few yards from the ramp at a sharp order from an all-too-familiar voice.

"Don't go too far, wouldn't want to lose you in this maze of corridors," Starscream snapped, scooping the human up before she realized how close he was. Clicking and grinding noises alerted her to the transformation of two other mechs, who then joined Starscream. Their colors impossible to make out in the faint light, though she guessed one was Skywarp, since the altmode she had been riding in had vanished. Both bore remarkable resemblance to the Decepticon holding her, and Katrina bit back a question that had almost spilled out before she could stop it. An hour or two of meditation had not been enough to erase over a year's worth of deprogramming, and as Starscream headed down the dark hallway, each step reverberating from the walls, the girl could not stop a shudder from running down her spine. She risked a single glance back and watched one of the other mechs pause and scoop up Frenzy, who didn't bother to struggle, knowing what his fate would be if he did.

Silence and the strange acoustics of the mazelike corridors made her captors' footsteps louder than they would be on normal ground, and Katrina resisted the urge to cover her aching ears. One hand curled around Morse in her pocket, more by instinct than intellectual design, because the little spider was shivering so hard his legs kept poking through the jacket's fabric and stabbing her skin. Leaning on her free hand, the girl strained her eyes, trying to see further in the murky gloom. The Decepticons' red eyes did little to help. Apparently they had little need for vision on their ship, and considering how advanced Cybertronian scanners were, that wasn't really surprising.

Still, Katrina would have preferred a slightly brighter setting for her first real meeting with the Decepticon leader. Already the darkness seemed to be closing in, threatening to crack the fragile shell she'd managed to raise. She feared it would return her to the strange place that had swallowed her earlier, although the logical part of her mind tried to explain its suspicions that Skywarp was somehow connected to that place.

Distant sounds grew louder as the small group approached their origin, and the girl couldn't tell if the makers were celebrating or screaming. It sounded like a mixture of both. Morse morphed into a cell phone under her hand and stopped moving. Katrina took the hint and removed her hand, shifting her position on Starscream's palm so she could fold her arms protectively over her jacket. With any luck, no one would notice the faint spark signature coming from her clothes.

* * *

Starscream barely noticed the girl's movement. Most of his processor was rapidly filing data, searching for the proper way to word his cursory report. Perhaps passing all the good news to Soundwave had been the wrong thing to do – it left him with little to add except the bad, which Megatron was never pleased to hear.

Judging by all the sounds coming from the common room, there had been too much high grade consumed and too little good news reported already. The silver Seeker braced himself as he pushed the door open, expecting to find the chaos that met his eyes. Squabbles were escalating all over the place and in several spots they had become fights. Megatron stood near the center of the room, shouting at a stoic Soundwave, who simply stood there and took whatever verbal abuse was tossed his way. Neither the Decepticon leader nor his communications officer seemed to notice or care about the other mechs in the room. Megatron barely flinched when someone bumped into him, cuffing the unfortunate mech with his claws without even glancing down. Laserbeak tumbled aside, then struggled to his feet, wobbling as he did so, eyes glowing far too brightly from a high grade overload. Soundwave didn't spare him a look, though Starscream was sure the cassette's mishap had been noticed and filed away for future reference, same as everyone else's actions were.

_"Are you sure we shouldn't wait until Lord Megatron is in a less public place before revealing the human?"_ Thundercracker asked over their personal commlink.

_"What do you mean?"_ Starscream snapped, about to step into the crowded room. Several mechs nearby noticed him and his companions, and the more sober ones began to move aside, clutching their energon cubes close and keeping their optics trained on the floor. Skywarp wasn't above stealing a drink when he wanted one and his trinemates did little to nothing to stop him.

_"It could prove dangerous for the organic."_

_ "Even overloaded on high grade, no one would be foolish enough to shoot a human Megatron is interested in."_

_ "Skywarp, you still have the footage from that time when Blackout overloaded his circuits with high grade and smashed the-"_

_ "No, I don't,"_ the purple mech hastened to say, catching the wave of anger emitting from Starscream over their trinebond. _"But I remember it. TC's right, Screamer, you should wait."_

Thundercracker prayed to any Cybertronian god listening that their brother would follow the suggestion. _"That's the first sensible thing you've said this orn, Skywarp."_

_ "Thank-hey!"_ Midway through his acceptance of the insult disguised as a compliment, the words sunk in completely, causing the purple mech's wings to quiver with anger. _"I resent that comment!"_

_ "Will you two shut it down long enough for me to concentrate?"_ snapped Starscream, trying to navigate through the crowded common room. It took several minutes for the Seeker to make his way over to his leader, who took one look and pointed a sharp claw at the door before heading in its direction himself, abandoning his rant at Soundwave. For a brief second, the communications officer made eye contact with Starscream, a hint of what was almost relief in his optics, before moving toward Laserbeak, who had managed to get himself pinned against a wall by a mech so overcharged he couldn't aim his gun properly at the lucky cassette.

_"Someone spiked the high grade again,"_ Starscream noted as he joined his leader and trine in the hallway outside the common room. Even when the door slid shut, plenty of sound made its way to their audio receptors, and Megatron headed down the hall without a word.

_"I swear it was only a little-"_ Skywarp stopped and glanced from Starscream to Thundercracker, who had both paused and were staring at him incredulously. _"Oh, sorry, you weren't accusing me, were you?"_

Sharing amused looks, his brothers shook their heads and started walking again, leaving the purple Seeker standing there for a moment before he shrugged and dashed after them, not about to be left behind.


	17. Nothing Else Matters

So... It's been about a month since I've updated. Forgive me! I wrote very little fanfic during November because of NaNo, and college app deadlines are now looming so I must spend more time on said documents than they probably deserve.

Thank you, as always, for reviewing! I enjoy reading your comments and suggestions, and constructive criticism is always welcome.

_______corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Simmons speaking, how may I help you?"_

_ "Simmons, this is Major Lennox."_

_ "Where's the kid?"_

_ "Excuse me?"_

_ "Where the hell is the kid, Major? Because I can't think of any other reason for you to be contacting me after dumping me at the airport a few hours ago."_

_ "Decepticons attacked."_

_ "They took her?"_

_ "Yes. Now I need-"_

_ "Don't even think of ordering me to go back to my deli! You're going to need my help if you don't want Galloway destroying everything you and your robot friends have been trying to put together for the past two years."_

_ "What on Earth are you talking about? Hold it, don't explain, you can do that later if necessary. Right now I need you to call the phone company you bought Morse from and find out if they can still track him."_

_ "Why-oh. Right. I'll do that right now."_

_ "Thank-"_

_ "Did he hang up?"_

_ "Yes. Seems more nervous than he should be."_

_ "Something must be going on that we don't know about, because I smell a rat."_

_ "Same here. He said Galloway might be a problem we can't handle on our own and he had a way to fix it, though he didn't go into details."_

_ "You didn't let him go into details. Think you should have?"_

_ "I thought it might have just been his usual paranoia, but now I wish I'd asked a few more questions before telling him about the phone company. He seemed awful anxious to help."_

_ "Too anxious?"_

_ "If you ask me, yes. I don't like the idea of the kid being with the Decepticons anymore than any decent person would, but he seemed almost frightened at the thought, and not for the girl."_

_ "Slag those orders the government made, Ah'm gonna contact Prime and ask him t'get someone t' fly Simmons over."_

_ "Do that, Jazz. I'm going to call Keller."_

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Nothing Else Matters

"For once, you actually managed to follow orders, Starscream," Megatron said, lounging on a chair – perhaps throne would be a better description, as it was certainly well decorated with trophies – in what could best be called either his office or perhaps a conference room. There was only one chair, the Seekers stood awkwardly beside the large table that took up the center of the room.

"Our master will be pleased with you," continued the Decepticon leader, beckoning them closer with a jerk of a claw. "Though you should be more careful with our prize. Had an overloaded mech seen it, they might have taken a shot or two and possibly had a lucky hit. Which would have been very unlucky from your point of view."

"My utmost apologies, Lord Megatron. When you said you wanted to see it the moment we arrived, you should have specified where."

"Correct, because you can't think for yourself." Megatron held out his hand, voice impatient as he demanded, "Give me the human before you drop it."

"Her, I believe, is the correct term," said the Seeker, dropping Katrina unceremoniously into his leader's waiting claws. "It is a human femme, after all. A youngling as well. I told you this plan was foolish from the start, the humans will never allow you to keep one of their 'children' captive."

"This one they will make an exception for, I think. After all, they did not care when the traitor took her away from them. Besides, we are not keeping it – her – for long, just until she has done a few quick jobs for us. After that, she will be disposed of."

Starscream snorted. _Why destroy such a valuable asset? Truly we are in need of a new leader, and soon._ "In what manner do you propose we do that?"

"I shall decide that when it is time," snapped the Decepticon leader. "Enough questions, Starscream, make your report and leave. I have better things to do than listen to your whining all day."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Starscream could not stop a hint of sarcasm from creeping into his voice, and he heard Skywarp flinch behind him when Megatron's unoccupied hand transformed into a smaller version of his fusion cannon. "We took no damage during the capture, downed one human vessel and made our escape with the prize you now hold. If you do not mind, we will take our leave of you now."

"Hold," Megatron said, freezing Thundercracker's hand a few inches from the switch that opened the door. "What of the Autobots and the traitor you failed to capture?"

Starscream knew better than to hesitate in his answer. "They survived, but fell into the ocean. No doubt their sparks have been extinguished by now."

Megatron narrowed his optics, which glowed a dangerous red. "But you did not wait to be certain of this."

"You requested that we return with the human at once. Who am I to argue with the illustrious leader of the Decepticons?" Starscream slapped the switch his brother had hesitated at and let the door slide open as he held his leader's gaze, noticing a slight movement from the human in his peripherals – it seemed she wasn't stunned enough to not understand what he had just said. _With any luck, she will be smart enough not let on that Skywarp said her guardians were off-lined._ He sent over his trine's personal commlink,_ "Skywarp, Thundercracker, get your afts out that door before our _kind_ leader changes his mind about punishing us for failing to off-line those Autobots despite not having had specific orders to do so."_

_ "See you in the common room,"_ Skywarp responded, nudging their blue trinemate toward the door when Thundercracker hesitated.

_"Use caution, Starscream, Megatron has been in a foul mood since he was brought back."_

_ "You think I do not know that the repeated revivings are causing dangerous destabilizing in his processor circuits? If we are fortunate, he will go insane and a new, better leader will be able to step up to take his place."_

_ "Do not even think such treasonous thoughts, Starscream. You know he only tolerates your insubordination because he needs your talent as a scientist when Hook or Scalpel's skills fail."_

"Wait," Megatron said, before the Seekers could leave. "Where is the traitor you captured?"

"Here," Skywarp said, holding up Frenzy's CD player altmode. "Figured it would be easier to carry him like this."

"What about Rumble?"

"Carrying hold," Skywarp replied with a shrug. "He can't transform."

"Thundercracker, take Rumble to medbay and make sure Scalpel repairs him without any modifications. Skywarp, you may leave as well – find Soundwave and send him here, then you are off duty. Leave the traitor here, with me."

After the purple Seeker had set Frenzy down, both Seekers glanced toward their trinemate – who gave a short nod of assent – before leaving, their clanking footsteps growing quieter as they moved down the hall. The door slid shut, and Starscream wondered if he was due another reprimand.

"Lord Megatron, do you require my assistance for anything else?"

"I did not, but since you volunteered-" Starscream did not like the look in his leader's optics at all "-you can fetch something for me. The human is going to need fuel. I expect you back in less than a joor." With a wave of his claws, the Decepticon dismissed his second in command, who left with all haste, knowing there would be punishment for being even a few astroseconds late.

"Now to deal with you," Megatron growled, turning his red optics on the human slumped in his hand. She was sitting, legs drawn up against her chest with arms clasped around them, her chin resting between her knees and eyes staring off into the distance, unfocused. No doubt the fleshling was in shock, though after the way the Witwicky boy had acted after being captured three days ago, he had expected a little more resistance from this one. Though it _was_ a femme, and perhaps the AllSpark's energy had damaged it. Surely such power was not meant to be encased in such a small body, though his scans confirmed its presence even as his processor denied the possibility. Extending a sharp claw, he prodded its arm gently, not wanting to injure it. After all, it had an important job to do, and he would be most unhappy if it off-lined before completing the task.

"Speak, human," he demanded, after a series of increasingly hard jabs raised no reaction, not even a flinch. Was this really a human, or an Autobot Pretender? He had never heard of such a thing, but maybe they had reverse-engineered one from the Pretender corpse the boy's mate had destroyed. A regrettable loss, but had she survived, 'Alice' would have met a much more horrible fate at the end of his fusion cannon.

Katrina managed to drag herself out of her dazed state enough to answer in an emotionless voice, "What do you wish me to say?"

"Good, your vocal processor is not damaged." He returned to sitting in his throne and drummed the claws of his free hand on the nearest arm. "This is a strange place, do you not have questions you would like answered?"

"I do not," she replied, meeting his optics without flinching, and something in her steady gaze made his spark cold. It was almost like the human had died, her optics no longer showing anything but the emptiness behind them. He made a mental note to speak with Skywarp. The Seeker must have done something during the return trip to have made the human act like a drone.

Before he could respond, the door slid open and Soundwave stepped inside. "You sent?"

* * *

Katrina could not hold back a shiver when the newcomer spoke. The complete lack of any feeling in his voice made him seem more like the robot he appeared to be than any Autobot or Decepticon she had ever met. Even Prowl's firm logic could not hide that he cared about his subordinates. This Decepticon, however, sounded like the mechanical being he was, and his face was a blank mask. _I don't like this_, she thought, hoping she was not looking at her new caretaker, but knowing Megatron would most likely hand the task of her well-being to another mech rather than deal with the mundane, everyday matters himself. _I'd almost rather have that purple one, Skywarp, taking care of me._ Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the thought of him. _On second thought, no I wouldn't. He said...I thought..._ The girl gave an imperceptible shake of her head. _Better not think about that now._ Refocusing her attention on the conversation that had struck up between the two mechs, she caught the tail end of a question directed at the newcomer.

...organic mind-scanning proceeding, Soundwave?" Megatron asked, his voice a low rumble the equivalent of a human's shout.

_Mind-scanning? Organic?_ Katrina gulped, not liking the sound of that.

"Touch-Katrina-and-I-destroy!" Frenzy bolted out of altmode and dashed toward the Decepticon leader, only to collapse a few seconds later when the mech by the door glanced briefly in his direction and emitted a piercing sound that made the human's eardrums vibrate painfully.

"Should I terminate him?" asked the mech, not even bothering to indicate the topic of his inquiry as he looked to Megatron for instruction.

Megatron laughed. "No, he may rethink his loyalties if given the chance. A good spy always knows which is the better side to throw his lot in with. Isn't that right, Frenzy?"

The little mech did not reply, whether out of choice or because he could not, Katrina wasn't sure. She gritted her teeth, wondering if she should speak up in his defense now or wait until after this newcomer had left. Glancing in said mech's direction, the girl was surprised to catch a slight glimpse of what might have been relief flick across Soundwave's face nearly too fast to see. _Maybe he does have emotions, but is just hiding them. Like me._ She almost wrinkled her nose at the thought. _No, not like me, I'm not a Decepticon._

"Regardless," said Megatron, dismissing the matter for the time being, "the traitor is not the reason I sent for you. This is." He raised the hand holding Katrina slightly. "See what you can find out from her before I take her to the Fallen's chamber."

_The Fallen's dead,_ Katrina thought, remembering her conversation – had it really only been the day before? – with her guardians. _Prime killed him. Which means they want me to-_ Before she could finish that terrible thought, a sharp pain spiked through her head, causing her to cry out involuntarily and clutch the effected area. It felt like something was digging through her mind, and she realized suddenly that was exactly what mind-scanning meant. _Have to block him,_ warned a small part of her brain that was still capable of thinking. But how?

An image floated up through layers of memories, many buried so deep even her worst nightmares could not dredge them out, and she clung to that image with all the strength she could muster, hoping it would work. After a final, horrible flare that felt like someone had set off a bomb in her head, the searching presence withdrew and she crumpled against Megatron's hand, shaking.

"Well?" asked Megatron.

"She blocked me, I could not withdraw any memories."

"She _what_?" the Decepticon leader roared, causing Katrina to cover her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the deafening sound that echoed through the room. "How could a tiny squishy prevent _you_ from reading whatever thoughts you wanted?"

"AllSpark power may be responsible," Soundwave replied, calm as ever. "More research is required."

"It will have to wait." Megatron stood. "Out of curiosity, what technique did she use to block you?"

"Image focus."

"Of what?"

"Human internet resources refer to it as a 'bear' or 'teddy bear'."

"A child's toy?" Megatron said after a slight pause to research the word. "An odd choice."

"It does not matter what the image is. Strong emotions are needed to make the image focus work, and many were tied to that one."

_You know, I'm right here, listening,_ Katrina felt like saying, but kept her mouth shut. Her head hurt too much for her to consider moving, even just to speak, and she would rather the Decepticons thought her stupid. It would make escape easier. She shook her head and closed her eyes as Megatron and Soundwave walked out the door, discussing matters the girl had no interest in. No sense in thinking about impossible things like escape, not now. Survival was the only thing that mattered.

_And friendship,_ a traitorous corner of her mind added, followed by soft vibrating against her leg from Morse. There was no message, he was just letting her know he was there. _But Frenzy is..._ With a groan, the girl sat up and peered back the way they'd come. _I know I'm going to regret this,_ she thought, letting out a silent sigh before clearing her throat during a lull in the mechs' conversation.

"Did you speak?" Megatron looked down, frowning. "Question time is over. Be quiet and I might let you eat before you get to work."

"Not without Frenzy," Katrina said, her mouth so dry the words came out as a meaningless mumble. Licking her lips and swallowing, she tried again, this time saying the words loud and clear. "Frenzy comes with me."

"Soundwave will deal with the traitor as he sees fit," Megatron said, optics narrowing. "You have no say in the matter."

Shaking and barely able to believe the words were coming from her own mouth, the girl replied, "I refuse to use my powers for you if you harm Frenzy in any way."

"You will use your powers when I say so, or die."

"Then you might as well kill me now," Katrina said, lifting her chin high, even though every bit of conditioned reflexes she had scrounged from the deepest corners of her mind screamed that she should drop the matter while she was still alive.

"I can deal with Frenzy when you are finished with the human," Soundwave suggested, much to his leader's surprise. The communications officer was not known for his leniency when his symbiotes failed to follow orders. Punishment was usually swift and final – that Soundwave was willing to postpone it made Megatron wonder if the mech had learned more from the mind-scan than he had let on. However, confrontations about withheld information could wait until later.

"Very well," the Decepticon leader conceded, knowing that if he wanted to get his project done, he would have to make some allowances, even if that meant giving in to a human's demands. He took the small mech, still in stasis lock, from Soundwave and set him down beside the fleshling. "Do not think this changes anything, human. If you so much as breathe without my permission, I will slag the traitor in an astrosecond, is that clear?"

Katrina gave a quick nod, folding her hands in her lap, eyes darting from the prone form of her friend to the two Decepticons, who returned to their conversation as if there had been no disruption. _I did it,_ she thought with a slight feeling of relief, then clamped down on the emotion and took a deep breath. _No more taking risks, I can't afford them. Frenzy and Morse are safe for now, that will have to do._ With those thoughts in mind, she curled up beside her comatose friend, feigning sleep until it finally came to sweep away all her problems for a while.


	18. Getting the Message

*cringes* I know, I know, this chapter is way late! But posting on time is one of my New Years Resolutions, so I will try to be more punctual in the future.

Thanks as always for reading, faving, and especially reviewing. Reviews truly make writing worthwhile for me.

Happy New Years!

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

_"Megatron to Hook."_

_ "Receiving you, Lord Megatron."_

_ "Are the preparations complete?"_

_ "My apologies, Lord Megatron, this sort of procedure takes time."_

_ "How much more do you need?"_

_ "At least another day. The damage was extensive."_

_ "The AllSpark's power can fix it."_

_ "What if the drain on the power to repair such damage hinders the recall of his spark?"_

_ "Whose suggestion was that?"_

_ "Starscream mentioned it possible during our discussion of the best way to replace some circuits located too close to-"_

_ "No need to give me the details. I will speak to Starscream about this matter. Until then, continue your work."_

_ "Yes, Lord Megatron."_

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Getting the Message

Katrina awoke to the prodding fingertip of Megatron, which she barely stopped herself from swatting at as she would an irritating insect. Instead the girl sat up and tilted her head back so she could see his face. "Yes?" _I hope he isn't planning on waking me that way every time._ Already her ribs felt covered in bruises, and considering how sharp the mech's claws were, a slight slip on his part could kill her. Pushing away such unpleasant thoughts with some difficulty, she waited for the Decepticon to speak, but he seemed preoccupied with something else, optics unfocused in a look she recognized well – he was comming someone.

After a moment he glanced down. "What do you want _now_, human?"

_I don't know, you're the one who woke me! A little more sleep would have been nice._ Her stomach growled. "I need food."

"Fuel? Starscream has not returned with it yet." Megatron scowled when the strange noise repeated itself. "Are you making that sound?"

"What sound?" On cue, her stomach protested against its emptiness for a third time, and the Decepticon leader snapped, "That sound!"

"Yes, I make that sound when I'm hungry." Katrina felt a slight twinge of fear, despite having retreated into the protective shell she had built around herself during the tense flight – what was the correct term for riding inside a sentient plane? In? Aboard? She chose the latter for the moment, since it didn't really matter – aboard Skywarp. Judging by the look on Megatron's face, he was not pleased at all with this new announcement.

"Well, stop it. Starscream will be here shortly with food."

Pressing her hands against her stomach, which had started to ache as well as make noise, the girl gave a slight shake of her head. "I can't."

"Humans have little control over anything, even their own bodies," said an all-too-familiar voice as Starscream popped into existence alongside Skywarp.

"Warping is not allowed inside the Nemesis," Megatron said.

"Since I arrived at the starboard entrance, I figured you would prefer I took the swiftest means of getting here, rather than spend a few breems walking when I could hand over the human food and return to more meaningful pursuits, like supervising Hook's work." Drawing a handful of cardboard boxes from subspace, the Seeker held them out. "This should keep the human alive for a few days."

Megatron took the boxes and gave them a quick scan, comparing the results to a human feeding chart he found with a quick internet search. They seemed to be within the parameters of reasonably healthy, which meant the human would indeed be fine for a couple of solar cycles. "You surprise me, Starscream, this is twice in one day that you managed to follow orders properly. You are dismissed, but-" he added, freezing both Seekers in their tracks before Skywarp could warp them away "-walk to your destinations. No more warping within the Nemesis. Is that understood?" His tone of voice made it clear that if his command were not understood, the order would be given in a more painful fashion, and needless to say, the Seekers gave swift nods, wheeled about and trotted down the hall at a swift pace.

"Slag-it-hurts," Frenzy mumbled, optics flickering to their normal bright red. "Katrina?" he seemed surprised to see the girl sitting nearby. A quick glance up told him where exactly he was, and the mech shifted into altmode without another word. His transformation was accompanied by a harsh grinding sound, and though she didn't show anything outside, Katrina winced a little inside, knowing her friend had not recovered from his recent fight and whatever Soundwave had done to him would not have helped his overworked nannites.

Gathering the CD player into her lap, the girl kept her mouth shut and eyes on the hall ahead as Megatron continued along, apparently not going to feed her until they reached their destination. Her stomach complained a few more times, then fell silent, leaving a gnawing pain behind. Without the distraction of conversation, even when it was between others who ignored her, Katrina found that she could hear much more than Megatron's heavy footsteps. Rattling, rushing, murmuring, clanking; all sorts of sounds came from the walls, the ceiling and even from below. Having nothing else to do, her brain focused on calculating the possibilities of what those noises might be related to. Air circulation, machinery that opened the automatic doors lining the hall, perhaps other systems that only related to the running of a spaceship. It was all speculation, but the girl filed it away all the same. _Ignorance is a dangerous thing,_ she reminded herself, remembering the innumerous mistakes she had made in her short lifetime, many of which could have been avoided if she had had a little more information. _Especially when you're a prisoner._

The Decepticon stopped, the sudden halt in movement jolting Katrina out of her musings, and she focused on the door that was opening, hoping that whatever was behind it would not make her situation worse. At first the dimness made it impossible to make anything out, but as Megatron stepped from the hallway into the even darker room, the girl began to see shapes, then details upon those shapes, until her mind put them all together and painted a jumble of images for her eyes. The interior was either a mechanic's paradise or a medic's nightmare. Practically every part imaginable needed for building Cybertronians were scattered throughout the room in piles, many of which seemed about to tip over at any moment. There was no order, no way of sorting that she could see, and the girl's eyes slid from one mound to another, searching for signs of movement.

"Hook," Megatron called, halting just inside the door – perhaps because he did not want to risk getting buried under a pile of leg plating and thick gears, Katrina mused.

"Lord Megatron, my apologies, I didn't hear the door," someone shouted in reply, their apology followed by a loud clattering crash that heralded the collapse of a pile near the back of the room. A moment later a green and purple mech stumbled into view, nearly tripping over another mound of parts on his way to stand before his leader. "I am not quite done, but it should only take a few more joors to finish the basic repairs."

"Very well. Where is the cage you prepared for me?"

_Cage?_ It took all of Katrina's willpower to stifle the choking fear trying to clog her throat, and Frenzy's altmode shifted a little closer to her with a slight quiver. Resisting the urge to give her friend a quick pat of reassurance, the girl focused on the mechs' conversation, hoping she had misheard them, but already knowing for sure she had not.

"Right this way." The mech – Hook, the girl guessed – started back into the maze of piles, and Megatron let out a soft growl.

"Bring it here," the silver mech ordered, pointing a claw at a clear spot on the floor in front of him. "This place is a deathtrap."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Hook scuttled away, causing several more crashes before returning with the requested object, which resembled little more than a giant birdcage, though with a curved handle attached to the top instead of a hanging ring. "I hope it is satisfactory."

"Good enough for the moment," said the Decepticon leader, flicking a section of bars open and dumping Katrina onto the floor of the cage. After he tossed in the cardboard boxes from his other hand, the mech shut the door with a loud clang and Megatron pressed a claw against a flat screen embedded in one thick bar, drawing a loud beep and a clicking noise.

_That must be the lock,_ the girl decided. _Can it be overridden? I'll have to ask Frenzy._ Realizing the mechs had not finished talking, she began listening again, hungry for any clue of what would happen next.

"-five joors to finish repairs," Megatron said, then turned and left before Hook could protest or even voice his agreement. For a while the silver mech strode down the hall, past doors and openings to other corridors. Taking a right, two lefts and another right, the Decepticon finally halted before a door that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. A quick press against the keypad beside the door opened it, and Megatron went in without bothering to announce his presence. Katrina could see why, the large room was empty save for a flat metal berth hanging from the wall and a Cybertronian-sized desk with a pile of small flat tablets on it. They were datapads, if she remembered the term correctly.

With a loud clack the birdcage was dumped on the desk, then the lights went out. Katrina flinched despite herself, and guessed that Megatron had sensed the movement when he let out a harsh laugh. Once that sound had faded, the Decepticon was silent, and the girl's ears strained to pick up any noise that would reveal what the mech was up to. A moment later a loud creak came from the berth's direction, and she decided he was going to recharge for a bit, which meant she had better get some sleep, too. Moving Frenzy's altmode to the floor of the cage and checking quickly to make sure Morse was still secure in her pocket, Katrina then curled up on the hard metal and closed her eyes, feeling the thick darkness pressing in. She kept expecting that horrible feeling to return and twist her stomach into even tighter knots, but it made no reappearance.

A soft growl reminded the girl that she had yet to eat, and sitting up again she felt around until she found a cardboard box. Quietly as she could, Katrina opened it and ran her hands through the contents. Bananas and some soft fuzzy things that were too small to be peaches. Holding one to her nose, she breathed in softly. _Kiwi,_ the girl confirmed, and thought she disliked the taste, not a single complaint made it through her strengthening barriers of protocol. _If you waste food, there will be less for your next meal_. She remembered that rule well, for as a young child it had been difficult not to break.

Tiny scratching sounds interrupted her small meal, and Katrina froze mid-bite, then swallowed the banana in her mouth and set the half-eaten fruit down to finish later. It couldn't be Megatron making those strange noises, he hadn't made a sound since dropping into recharge, and besides, the scratching was much closer than the wall berth. Almost like something was walking across the desk toward the birdcage. Though part of her froze with fear, the larger part enabled the basic rules of combat and she snatched Frenzy up, then stood, facing the direction the sounds came from.

"Who is there?" she asked, keeping her voice level. _Never show fear, it can be used against you._

"Vat have ve here?" snickered a high-pitched voice, accompanied by a scuttling noise that kept getting closer until red optics suddenly appeared right beside the cage. Katrina jumped back, earning a chattering hiss from the voice's owner, no doubt its version of a laugh.

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?" the Decepticon repeated back, with another snatch of laughter. "I come for ze sparkling."

_Morse? Oh, no. _"You can't have him." Katrina took a step away from the red optics, wondering if she should yell and wake Megatron up. She doubted he would appreciate being woken from recharge, but whatever this creature was, it wasn't friendly, and the girl couldn't let it take Morse.

"Yes I can." A glint of red light on metal was Katrina's only warning, and she ducked just in time. Something clicked over her head and the Decepticon snickered. "You can't run forever, squishy. Give me ze sparkling and you won't get hurt."

_Guess I don't have any choice_, the girl thought grimly, and let out the shrillest shriek she could muster. A loud crash was followed by several curses, then the lights turned on without warning, rendering Katrina blind until her watering eyes adjusted to the sudden change.

"Scalpel!" Megatron shouted, snatching up the little Decepticon – who looked a little like a larger version of Morse, Katrina realized with an inward shiver – between two claws. "How dare you disturb my recharge cycle!"

"It waz ze human, Lord Megatron," the little mech protested frantically. "It made ze loud sound, not me."

"Is that true?" Megatron bent down so he was looking directly at Katrina with burning red optics. "Did you wake me up?"

Frozen, she could only give a short nod.

Lowering his voice, Megatron managed to sound even angrier than before. "That was foolish, but I will deal with you in a moment. Scalpel! What are you doing in my room?"

"Ze human iz hiding something, Lord Megatron," said the little Decepticon triumphantly, shooting Katrina a dark look and pointing at her jacket pocket with a spindly leg not trapped between the larger mech's fingers. "Zere, in itz clothing."

"Bring it out," Megatron ordered, his voice brooking no argument.

Katrina pulled out the cell phone, bracing herself for the worst.

"That is a human device for comming," growled the Decepticon leader, dropping Scalpel onto the desk. "Explain yourself, Scalpel."

"It haz a spark signature."

"Does it?" After a pause, Megatron smiled – not a pretty sight – and nodded. "Well done, Scalpel. It managed to hide the signature well enough, for a drone."

"Not-a-drone," Frenzy said, unfolding from his altmode with a growl. He jumped between Scalpel and the girl, eyes bright with fury. "You-come-near-I-kill."

"Tough words won't do you much good with your armaments down." Megatron tapped his claws on the desk. "What should I do about this? No doubt Scalpel would like the insect for experiments-"

"Yes, yes! New sparkling haz not been seen for long time, zere iz much to study."

"On the other hand, I doubt you could take it from the human without Frenzy causing at least a little damage to you."

"He vill not have a chance, I vill attack him first." Scalpel raised one arm, which began to transform, but stopped at a sharp word from Megatron.

"We need him alive for now, the human refused to cooperate otherwise. No doubt it feels the same about the insect."

The little Decepticon hissed with disappointment. "I could do only a couple experiments, it vill survive thoze?"

"No," Katrina said, and returned Morse to her pocket, feeling her friend shivering in her hand. She didn't dare offer him any comfort, knowing Megatron could easily change his mind.

"No," Megatron agreed, annoyed that the human was being so stubborn, but acknowledging that now was not the time to argue. After all, once she had done what he wanted, there would be no more use for her, and Scalpel could do what he wished with all three.


	19. In Search of Answers

This chapter is...two days late now. Forgive me, my dad's been working my sister and I day in and day out to get us moved into the asement, so what little writing I get done is usually between 10pm and midnight, which makes for some very strange stories! Ended up starting over with this chapter, because the first attempt just kept rambling on...which is what I'm doing now. Sorry.

Thanks for faving, alerting, and reviewing! I love hearing what you think of my work, and constructive criticism is always welcome.

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

In Search of Answers

After Scalpel had been sent scurrying from the room, Megatron turned out the lights and returned to his silent recharging, leaving Katrina crouched in her cage, shaking like a leaf and wondering if she had pushed him too far this time. Not that she had had a choice, but still, just thinking about it made her shiver. There had to be a very good reason she was still alive, because she had a feeling that if she was not useful in some way, Scalpel would have gotten permission to do what he wanted with her, Morse, and perhaps even Frenzy.

U OKAY? clicked Morse, transforming and crawling up Katrina's arm to her shoulder to rub his head against her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Morse," she whispered, burying her face in her hands. "I can't do it."

WHAT?

"I've been trying to stay strong, but I can't." The girl's voice broke. "I thought you were going to get killed and-"

OK. Morse tapped her shoulder to get her attention. IT OK.

"Morse-right-no-need-cry-Katrina." Frenzy patted her back. "We-okay-now."

"But what about when he's done with me?"

"We-get-out-of-here-before-then," Frenzy promised. "Bet-Cade-and-others-already-on-their-way."

"You think so?" Katrina asked, not allowing her hopes to rise. If her friend's prediction turned out to be wrong, she didn't think she could handle such a discovery, not in her current condition. The girl sighed. _I better not even think about it. _"All right, you two better recharge," she said, attempting to reestablish her calm exterior. Having a breakdown wouldn't help her or her friends survive.

"You-should-eat." Frenzy's red optics had been dimmed to the point that the girl couldn't see anything, but they brightened a little as he dropped a kiwi into her free hand. "You-did-not-finish-last-meal."

"I'm not really hungry," Katrina started to say, then gasped when her friend suddenly collapsed, his entire frame shaking for a brief moment before he began to transform and untransform over and over, making not a sound except for the grind of protesting gears and a high, thin whine just within the girl's hearing range. "Frenzy? Frenzy!"

NO NO NO NO, Morse clicked over and over, managing to convey his worry, which only increased Katrina's own fears for their friend.

"Frenzy, stop it," Katrina said, reaching out before yanking her hand back, knowing what would happen if it got caught in the mech's transform. "Frenzy, please," she begged, not knowing what else to do. How did one stop a Cybertronian from having a fit? "Morse, what do I do?" the girl asked frantically as Frenzy's convulsions continued to grow worse.

NO, Morse replied, his way of saying that he had no idea. CALL HELP?

"If I wake up Megatron again, who knows what he'll do," Katrina replied, hands forming white-knuckled fists. "He might even turn you over to that creepy Decepticon – what was his name?"

SCALPEL.

"Right. Scalpel." Katrina clenched her fists tighter, then relaxed them. _Don't show emotions,_ she reminded herself, before breaking her own rule again as she said, "I can't let that happen." _But if I don't call for help, Frenzy might die._ The last few remaining walls of her protective shell crumbled under this knowledge. _I don't know what to do._

CALL, Morse insisted.

"But-"

CALL!

Her friend so rarely added an exclamation point to his sentences that Katrina took a moment to process his suggestion. Perhaps Morse had a point – she would probably be able to keep them all safe, and Frenzy seemed to be in critical condition. If they didn't get some help soon...

"All right," she said, taking a deep breath, as her stomach began to twist itself into knots. "Don't say I didn't warn you. HELP!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and covered her eyes a split second before the lights flashed on, bright as day.

"Human, I will send you to the Pit if you don't have a terribly good reason for waking me _again_."

"It's Frenzy," Katrina said flatly, pointing at her friend. "Something's wrong."

Megatron took one glance before stalking out of his room, the door sliding shut with a bang. After a few seconds, the lights went out, leaving Katrina in the dark again, for Frenzy's optics had gone dark. All she could hear was him rolling about on the floor, clacking against the metal bars of the cage as he continued to convulse.

Hurried footsteps in the corridor outside announced the return of Megatron, who burst in with the lights returning to full blast before Katrina could remember to shield her eyes, and she was blinded for a good minute. The click of her cage's door shutting had her blinking the last few dots from her vision and searching for Frenzy, who was no longer in the cage. She found him lying on the desk outside, being held down by Megatron while Soundwave bent over him, surveying the little mech with a strange look in his eyes, almost as though he was worried about Frenzy, despite them being on opposite sides now.

"Verdict?" Megatron asked a few minutes later, a nanosecond after Soundwave lifted his head and tilted it, his thoughtful look immediately being replaced by the normal blank mask.

"The damage is repairable, but it was caused by a virus. I do not know how he could have contracted such a thing."

"It doesn't matter right now. Can you repair him?"

Soundwave hesitated, then gave short nod. "It should be corrected before too long or some major systems will fail."

"Then do it," Megatron said irritably.

The communications officer vented air, knowing his leader would not like his next words. "I must bring his armaments online for the short time it takes me to repair him."

"Why?"

Soundwave started to explain about the connections between certain programs and some other technical stuff that flew over Katrina's head, but Megatron put a stop to it quickly and ordered that Frenzy get repaired as soon as possible. After dismissing Soundwave, who took the little mech with him, Megatron turned toward Katrina's cage, bending down so he could look her straight in the eyes.

"Do not wake me again," he growled, then headed back to his recharge booth.

Katrina curled up on the cage floor and closed her eyes, holding Morse close. The little spider vibrated gently in a comforting way, and the girl soon drifted off to sleep before she realized what had happened.

She woke to the wailing sound of a siren. Thinking that the police or FBI had arrived and were going to arrest Barricade and Jazz, Katrina jumped to her feet and was already running out of her bedroom before her eyes registered where exactly they were and reminded her that there was no bedroom and no guardians. There was, however, a siren going off somewhere, and she covered her ears, not wanting to become deaf. Eyes darting around the room, she found Morse still on her shoulder with his legs tucked into her jacket so he wouldn't fall off, Megatron's recharge berth empty – which meant he was elsewhere on the ship – and Frenzy sitting on the edge of the table, kicking his legs in a bored fashion.

"Frenzy?" Katrina called, then flinched back when the mech turned to look over his shoulder, optics cold with hatred. No, this mech was a Decepticon, his metal form tinted red instead of blue, the same one Frenzy had been fighting at their house. "You're Rumble, right?" the girl asked before she could stop herself. _He was even more beat up than Frenzy,_ she remembered. _They must have repaired him._

"I'm-not-speaking-to-you," he hissed, turning back around. "Be-quiet-you-slagging-human."

Katrina fell silent immediately and spent a long time searching her memory for more useful rules while she waited for Frenzy to be brought back. If he was going to be brought back – her heart squeezed painfully at the thought of never seeing her friend again. _Show no emotion, feel no emotion,_ the girl told herself, but it did no good. Her defenses were still not strong enough to hold off the worst of the pain, not this soon after the emotional turmoil that had nearly overtaken her when her guardians had 'died', according to the lying Decepticon Skywarp.

"Why-did-he-leave?"

The question startled Katrina out of her thoughts and she stared at the Decepticon for a while, uncertain whether a reply was necessary. _Who he is talking about? Frenzy?_

"Why-did-Frenzy-leave?" Rumble repeated, answering that question. The mech jumped to his feet and began pacing along the edge of the table like a caged tiger. "Why?" He stalked over to the cage and pressed his face against the bars, eyes shining bright with anger. "Why?" demanded the mech, slamming a fist against the bars, denting one.

"I don't know," Katrina said, eyes wide, wondering if she was going to get attacked. He looked angry enough to do such a thing. "I didn't make him stay with us." _No one did. I didn't even know he had a...brother? Is that the right term? What does that make Soundwave?_

"Who-is-us?" Rumble growled, interrupting the girl's thought process again. "Sparkling-traitor-Autobot-_squishy_?" He spat the last word like it was a virus. "Why-stay-with-you? Ravage-died-and-where-was-he? Soundwave-stuck-in-space-unable-to-help-and-Frenzy-off-playing-Neutral."

"Where were you?" Katrina shot back, not knowing who Ravage was but guessing he – or she? – was another sibling. _How big is Frenzy's family?_ So many questions, with no one willing to answer them. She felt like she was suffocating under their weight.

"With-Soundwave-Laserbeak-Buzzsaw-and-others. Frenzy-only-one-near-enough-to-have-helped-Ravage-and-he-didn't."

Jumping to her feet, Katrina walked over to stand a few feet from the mech. "Did he even know where Ravage was?"

"Egypt-of-course-and-we-have-" he paused to think of the appropriate word "-internal-connections-that-can't-be-broken. He-should-have-heard-the-cry-for-help."

"Maybe he didn't, and even if he did, there was no way he could get to Egypt in time, on the other side of the world." Katrina was all but bristling at the injustice that he would accuse her friend for failing a duty he didn't even deserve. "Besides, like you said, he's a Neutral now. Helping a Decepticon would only get him slagged."

Morse gave a soft reprimanding whistle, and the girl rubbed her eyes, sighing. "Right, sorry, Morse. I didn't mean to swear."

"You-stupid-to-take-orders-from-a-sparkling," said Rumble, shaking his head. "Why-do-it?"

"I'd trust Morse with my life," she replied stiffly, cupping a hand over her friend.

The mech vented air and went back to sitting on the desk edge, silent for a long time. "I-trusted-Frenzy," he said at last, dropping his chin into his hands in a surprisingly human gesture. "Why-did-he-break-his-promise?"

"What promise?" Katrina asked, taking a step closer to the bars. _I wonder if he's telling the truth_, she thought suddenly. _Or is he simply under orders to make me sympathetic through whatever means necessary?_ The girl made a quick decision to collect what information the Decepticon was willing to provide, without letting it change what she thought of her friends or the Decepticons.

Another long pause, then Rumble muttered, "Soundwave-always-makes-us-promise-to-return-if-still-functioning-after-mission-completed. He-loaned-Frenzy-to-Barricade-because-Megatron-ordered-it-but-only-for-a-short-time. Then-Frenzy-died."

"That must have been awful," said Katrina, frowning. She felt sorry for the mech, Decepticon or not, but was also suspicious. Even Frenzy wasn't usually this talkative, at least not about himself. Why, then, did Rumble seem to think it was all right to tell her, a prisoner and a human, so much? _More questions_, she thought, holding back a sigh with difficulty.

"You-can't-imagine-the-pain," Rumble snarled, shooting her a dark glare.

Katrina gulped, taking a step back in case the mech lunged at the cage. "I brought him back."

"Yes-and-he-stayed-with-Barricade-instead-of-returning-as-he-should-have."

"I don't know why he stayed-"

Optics narrowing, Rumble kicked the desk's surface irritably. "I-do-he-thinks-coming-back-from-the-dead-gives-him-a-chance-to-start-over-as-a-different-bot." The Decepticon let out a soft growl. "He-is-wrong."

"You're right," Katrina said, startling herself and the mech. "You don't have to come back from the dead to start again. Barricade didn't." Turning away, she walked over to the center of her cage and sat down, scooping Morse into her lap, where her friend curled up and shuttered his optics before dropping off into a quiet recharge. The girl wished she could do the same, but until Frenzy returned, Katrina didn't dare sleep.

Just saying her guardian's name made her wish she was with him right then, instead of trapped inside a cage aboard the Decepticon ship. _I hope he's looking for me, I don't know how much longer I can stay in this place before something terrible happens._ A small voice in the corner of her mind whispered that her guardian might think _she_ was dead, and not come looking for her. _No, he would at least search for my body and Frenzy. Oh, Primus, I hope Frenzy is okay._ Hugging her legs to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees and let out a silent sigh, then flinched when Morse wriggled against her stomach and dropped her legs so her friend could climb to a safer spot than her lap.

"Sorry, Morse," she said, patting her friend on the head. The girl knew she shouldn't be showing emotions, knew she should be working on rebuilding the wall between herself and the outside world, but Katrina needed a little comfort before she retreated into that shell again.


	20. Someone Who Cares

Please, please, please forgive me for taking so long to update! I've had a slight case of writer's block, which fortunately seems to have disappeared... Hopefully my next update will happen in a more timely fashion.

Thanks, as always, for reading, faving and - most of all - reviewing. Whether it's criticism or praise, I value the opinions of my readers and try to use your comments and suggestions to make my writing better.

DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, my list of things that should have never happened would not be about a mile long. I do own my OCs, please ask permission if you wish to use them.

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty

Someone Who Cares

When the wailing siren at last fell silent, Katrina's ears rang with the sudden stillness. She glanced at Rumble, who hadn't moved from his seated position at the edge of the desk, then down at the quietly recharging Morse, whose legs twitched now and then. _Is he dreaming? Do Cybertronians dream?_ Sighing, the girl gave her friend a soft pat on the head, not enough to wake him, just a slight touch to let him know she was there if he needed her.

"Why-do-you-treat-him-that-way?"

Katrina looked up, raising her eyebrows in surprise she didn't have the strength to hide. After her last outburst, she wouldn't have been surprised if the mech stopped speaking to her at all. Judging by the hard expression on his face, he wasn't far off from doing so, but something held him back. Perhaps curiosity was the culprit, judging from his latest question.

"Morse?" she asked, getting a short nod of confirmation.

"Same-for-Frenzy-and-Barricade-right?" added the mech, sitting down beside the cage.

"Of course. They're my friends," Katrina replied, cupping her hands closer around the little spider in her lap. _And my family, what little I have of one, but you don't need to know that._

"Friend," Rumble repeated, as though it were a foreign concept. "Do-you-consider-the-Autobots-friends-too?"

_Do I? They were kind to me, and Jazz came with me even though he should have stayed with them. Perhaps I should have stayed, but the government would have gotten their hands on me eventually. Jazz and the others would promise to protect me..._ A faint smile twisted her mouth for a second. _They don't know what _they_ are like._ "Yes," she said quietly, in answer of the Decepticon's question. "They are my friends as well."

"What-about-the-boy?"

"What boy?" Katrina's mind flashed for a second to the boy who had constantly bothered her in school, but that couldn't be who Rumble meant.

"Witwicky," was all the mech had to say.

"I suppose." _If I had stayed with his family, would he have become more like a brother to me? Mikaela a sister? His parents..._ She couldn't finish that thought.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Katrina decided she'd had enough of questions regarding her feelings for the moment, and resolved to not answer anymore at the present time.

"Weak-allies-get-you-slagged," Rumble stated. "Protecting-them-is-foolish."

"Frenzy and Morse aren't weak, and the Autobots have been kicking your-" she caught herself just before swearing "-even Sam managed to take Megatron out for a while. Besides, they're not allies, they're friends."

"Is-there-a-difference?"

Katrina didn't reply, not sure how to answer. Before meeting the Witwickys, she had considered no one an ally, much less a friend. Now that she had the latter, as well as a somewhat unorthodox family, the girl knew there was a difference. She could feel it. However, putting that feeling into words was a difficult task, not one the girl wanted to attempt. Deciding to risk a question of her own, she asked, "What was the siren for?"

"Skywarp-tripped-a-sensor-while-setting-up-a-prank," Rumble said, making it sound as though it happened all the time. "Did-you-think-it-was-an-Autobot-rescue?" He shook his head, the brief flicker of Katrina's eyes telling him he had guessed correctly. "They-won't-attack-the-Nemesis-too-powerful-for-them. You-would-escape-yourself-before-they-managed-to-get-past-the-defenses."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Katrina asked, locking her violet eyes with the mech's red optics. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"Soundwave-wants-information."

The girl flinched, not having expected quite such an honest reply. _I was right, he's just gathering intelligence. I should have kept my mouth shut after realizing he wasn't Frenzy._

WHAT? clicked Morse, having woken at some point during their brief conversation without Katrina noticing.

"Anything," Rumble said, apparently understanding the full question behind the little mech's shorthand way of speaking. "Soundwave-is-the-communications-officer-and-collects-information. Didn't-your-Autobot-friends-teach-you-about-Decepticons?"

Katrina shrugged, unwilling to let on just how much – or how little – she knew about her enemies.

* * *

"What do you mean, we have to go through proper channels?" Mrs. Witwicky was all but screaming at the government aide now, and the man looked ready to run for it. Sam had to give him credit for standing his ground, even if he was just as mad as his mother that they were stuck on the base without knowing any more than what Optimus had told him.

"There's a child out there in the hands of monsters and I'm offering to help in any way I can and all you can say is I don't have clearance?"

Sam hid his face in his hands and fought back a groan with difficulty. His mother had been restating that for the past two hours and still had gotten no change of answer from the aide.

"I'm sorry, but you are a civilian. Without permission from-"

"Just ask one of the big robots out there, they'll give me permission to help!"

_That makes four times she's tried that argument,_ Sam thought, leaning back against the pile of pillows that kept him in a semi-reclining position. _Optimus might have let her help, even if it was just fetching coffee for Lennox and the others while they're planning things, but he's busy getting the Autobots cleared for the rescue mission, so we can't bother him about this right now._

"Judy," his dad said, trying to calm the woman down. "They're going to get her back."

"I never should have let her leave," Mrs. Witwicky sobbed, breaking down and slumping down on the edge of Sam's bed. "We should have gone after her then, when we first found out."

"If she had wanted to stay with us, she would have," Sam pointed out, sighing. He'd been against the girl staying in the first place, but she'd been a nice kid and it had been sort of like having a younger sister. _How long will it take for them to get her back?_ He wondered, closing his eyes and letting his parents' voices fade to a distant roar. The teen had no doubt that Prime planned on saving Katrina, but would they be in time? Or were they already too late?

* * *

Katrina sat, weighed down by the uncomfortable silence but unwilling to break it. If Rumble was not going to speak further, she saw no reason to say anything, not when she was at the disadvantage of being threatened into questions he had no reason to respond to himself. Morse still slept in her lap, a small comfort that only served to remind the girl that Frenzy was not there. The other mech could be going through torture and she could do nothing to help him.

The door slid open, stopping with a soft click as it finished retreating into the slot in the wall it had come from, and Megatron walked in. Without a word he snatched up the cage and gave a short order to Rumble that the girl couldn't understand – no doubt it was in Cybertronian, a rough, rasping language she had attempted to learn from Jazz but had not gotten further than a few simple words. Pronouncing them was impossible for her vocal cords, the girl remembered absently, trying not to let her mind dwell on what the Decepticon leader had planned for her. _There's only one reason he would be dragging me off somewhere, and that's that he has someone that needs to be fixed,_ Katrina told herself, and inhaled a deep, silent breath. The girl was not about to let any sight, however horrible, crack her fragile composure.

They returned to the room where Hook had brought out the cage she now sat in, and Katrina cringed inwardly as Megatron made his cautious way through the mountains of spare parts. Some were shiny and looked brand new, others were scratched, dented, torn or had rough sharp edges that showed they had been in battle. Who had made the hole in that chest plate? Or the helm that rolled aside when Megatron kicked it carelessly? Had Prime had anything to do with them, or Ironhide with his cannons, or Jazz or any of the countless other Autobots she knew so little of? Were there parts in here of traitors to the Decepticon cause who had been brutally murdered, or Autobot prisoners dissected by that horrible little Decepticon from before? Just thinking of Scalpel made Katrina shudder, and the movement was enough to wake Morse, whose optics blinked a couple times before on-lining fully. He let out a soft beep, too soft for Megatron to notice among the crashing of pieces and bits he was nudging aside or crushing beneath his feet as he moved. Katrina, however, heard the sound and looked down to find Morse clambering up her arm to his favored spot on her shoulder.

"You should sleep," she whispered, barely moving her lips, the words nothing more than a soft breath hissing between her teeth. "It's no good for you to get yourself noticed."

He let out quiet sound like a human raspberry, earning a slight smile from Katrina that the girl immediately wiped off her face, horrified that she had let emotions change her expression from its stony mask. At this rate she would not... _It's no good,_ she suddenly thought, silently repeating her words from earlier. _Something's happened. I can't make myself ignore my feelings. What am I going to do?_

"Welcome, Lord Megatron." Hook's voice echoed in the room, which resonated well despite the clutter, or perhaps because of it. "I believe it is ready."

"Good," his leader said, setting down the cage, and Katrina got her first glimpse of the twisted corpse lying on the table beside her cage. As tall as Megatron, perhaps taller if the body were straight instead of curled slightly, it lay on its side, facing her. The girl's stomach knotted, horrified by the twisted wreckage of the Cybertronian's face. It looked like a mask had been torn off, the spark chamber in its chest crushed, and the entire metal frame had a melted look to it. Remembering Frenzy when she first saw him, Katrina knew at once what Megatron was about to say.

"You are going to fix him," the Decepticon leader ordered, pressing a claw against the lock on her cage and flicking open the door. "Or the insect dies."

"Who is he?" The girl flinched, horrified that the question had managed to escape her mouth before she could give the order to stop it. Eyes wide, she glanced up at Megatron's vivid red optics, which narrowed a little before he turned away.

"He is called the Fallen, but his true name is Megatronus," the Decepticon leader stated, gesturing Hook forward even as he began to head back the way he had come. "Make sure the human does not attempt anything that would be detrimental to my plans, Hook. For safe measure, you may want to hold onto the insect until the Fallen has returned."

"Yes, Lord Megatron," Hook said, activating something on his hand as he held it toward the cage.

Morse dug his legs into Katrina's jacket, straight into her shoulder, causing the girl to cry out. She regretted the sound a second later when her friend relaxed his grip a little and flew from his perch to clang against Hook's hand. The Decepticon curled his fingers over the insect, careful not to crush the small mech, then gave the cage a sharp nudge with his free hand.

"I haven't got all day," he said, tipping the cage in small increments until Katrina had to jump out or risk falling against the glowing bars still crackling with energy. She noticed Hook was cautious not to touch those bars as he moved the cage to a different table, leaving the girl with no place to retreat, and no choice but to comply with the Decepticons' wishes if she wanted Morse to remain in one piece.

Taking a deep breath, Katrina took a couple hesitant steps in the Fallen's direction, shuddering at the horrific sight. She wondered who could have mangled the mech so badly. Not Megatron, if he was trying to get him back. An Autobot then, but the girl couldn't see even Ironhide doing this much damage, and besides, the wounds were too rough-edged to have been done by a normal weapon. It almost looked like someone had done the damage barehanded. _They must have hated him for a good reason. This is a bad idea._ Katrina's eyes shifted toward Hook, who was peering down into his hand at her friend, so small and vulnerable compared to the much larger Decepticon. _If the Autobots didn't hate me before, they will now._

Against her will, Katrina could feel the soft tingle of power under her skin, but she resisted touching the cold metal, which seemed to radiate a darkness the girl feared would overwhelm her. _No, I've changed my mind, I won't do it!_ However, the strange power in her would not be denied and her hands slowly reached out despite frantic clicking coming from Morse.

NO NO NO NO NO, the little mech cried in the shrillest sounds he could make, but it did no good.

Instead of being the harsh cold of death, Katrina found the metal beneath her palms and outspread fingers to be burning hot, and reflexes would have pulled her away if not for the blue light gathering around the points of contact. Brightening until it was brilliant to the point of being without color, a great flash filled the room and caused Hook to stumble back with a cry of surprise, echoed in a monstrous roar as the prone form sat up before its many wounds had even finished healing.


	21. What I've Done

Very belated update, and I'm starting to hate myself for saying this so often. Hopefully I will be able to pick up my normal train of updates this month, but...no promises. Between my schoolwork, college classes, and part-time job, I've had little time to write. And the family issues going on right now don't help at all...counting down six months to when I'll be in college and not getting yelled at every other night for no reason at all.

...what I'm trying to say is thank you for being patient with me despite my apparent inability to stick to self-imposed deadlines.

Also thanks as always for reviewing, I love comments and constructive criticism! Thank you as well for faving and/or alerting. I've been trying to personally thank each of you since the beginning of this year, as well as reply to reviews, which is something I should have been doing from the beginning. Everyone who reviewed, faved or alerted before I began doing this, an extra big thank you goes to you!

Last of all, before I forget... The (now monthly-ish) Disclaimer: I don't own it, I don't get money for it. If I did, I would be living five hundred miles north from where I am now, in a fully insulated cottage with my laptop, a cupboard full of cookies and a fridge full of milk to keep me company. ...perhaps it's just as well I don't, since that kind of diet wouldn't be all too great for my long term health.

Anyway, enough small talk for the moment, you guys are more interested in reading, right? Hope this chapter meets expectations...

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty One

What I've Done

As the power left her body, Katrina collapsed, sucking in air with great gasps, her heart racing and vision blurred with unshed tears. _Can't show weakness_, the girl thought, curling her fingers into tight fists, focusing for a moment on the pain of her fingernails biting into flesh. With a soft grunt she pushed herself into a sitting position, arms shaking from the effort.

Nothing moved, the room was deadly silent, with Hook standing still as a statue, optics locked on the mech now sitting before him. The Fallen stayed frozen from a few more seconds, then reached a hand toward the smaller mech, a soft hiss escaping from his reforming mouth.

"Where am I?" he ground out, wrapping his claws around Hook's neck. "Speak, soldier."

"Aboard the Nemesis," replied the mech, stiffening. "This is the aft medical bay."

Katrina keeled over, unable to remain sitting as sharp pain lanced through her mind. She clutched her aching head, trying to block out the shouting that seemed to be coming from inside.

_"Lord Megatron, he has returned!"_

_ "Good, I will be there momentarily. Do not let him leave the medical bay until his injuries are healed."_

_ "What do you want me to do with the human and insect?"_

_ "Dispose of them. I believe Scalpel had an interest in the insect, you can see if he wants the human. If not, throw her out the nearest airlock. We have no further need for the AllSpark's power."_

A soft scuttling noise preceded Morse's sudden leap from Hook's hand by only a brief second. Katrina reached out with automatic reflexes, catching her friend gently, then hugging him against her chest to prevent Hook from pulling him back with the magnetic force from before. Sharp corners of her friend's chassis bit into the girl's flesh and she felt a small trickle of blood run from one cut, but the pain was little compared to the heartache Katrina remembered from the last time she had thought she'd lost Morse forever. This time she wasn't letting them take him away.

"Who are you?" Rough from disuse, the Fallen's voice was nevertheless powerful enough to send a chill down Katrina's back and she looked up, glad to find he was addressing Hook, not herself. She didn't wait to hear the Decepticon's reply, too busy running toward the table's edge. It was a long way to the ground but risking a broken leg was better than sitting around, waiting to get killed.

No sooner had the girl become airborne than silver claws wrapped around her, a low rumble of laughter coming from her captor as she struggled a moment before going limp with defeat. "Hook, I told you to watch the human, didn't I?"

"Sorry, Lord Megatron, I took my optics off it for just a moment-"

"Never mind that bit of slag," the Fallen snapped. "Throw it away, Megatron, and take me to the helm. It's time we showed the Autobots just how much damage a Decepticon warship can do."

"Yes, Master," Megatron said, tossing Katrina over his shoulder with careless ease.

For a heart-stopping moment the girl fell through the air, waiting to contact the hard ground with enough force to break her neck, but another set of silver claws caught her. She looked up to find Starscream watching her with narrowed optics. Katrina's mouth moved to speak, but something about the mech's expression told her to be quiet, and she said nothing as the Seeker left the other three mechs to their conversation and headed down the hall.

Any hope that this was a rescue – after all, Starscream was related to Thundercracker somehow, so wasn't there a possibility he would do the same as the blue mech had done for Morse a year ago? – was dashed when they entered a room that could only be described as a mad scientist's laboratory. It made Hook's room look orderly in comparison, with parts scattered across the floor so thickly the Seeker had to wade through them toward the examination table that Scalpel was scuttling across. Katrina cringed in Starscream's hand and held Morse even tighter, no longer feeling the pain as it was chased away by a sudden wave of adrenaline-laced fear. Soft whimpers vibrated soundlessly in her throat and the girl almost missed what happened next, her vision blurred as it was with tears of fright.

Leaping toward Starscream's hand with clawed feet outstretched in anticipation of finally getting his chance to study the strange squishy, Scalpel was not prepared for the larger mech's free hand to come flying through the air and swat him down like an insect. Landing with a sharp mix of clicks and clacks, Scalpel spat a few insults in Cybertronian before demanding, "Vhat vas ze meaning of zat?"

"Perhaps your audio processors need repairing, because Soundwave ordered earlier that the human be brought to him first, before you got your claws into it." Starscream kicked the mech aside and stalked past him, ignoring his shrill protests as he searched among datapads and mounds of spare parts for something that seemed to be eluding him. "Where are the stasis cuffs, Scalpel?"

"Not here," spat the smaller mech, scrambling to his feet and muttering insults under his breath as he checked his body for damage. Finding a broken claw he let out a loud hiss that made Katrina flinch, automatically reaching to her shoulder to cover Morse with a comforting hand, which met thin air.

Pulling her hand down, she turned both palms up and found them covered in thin red lines of blood, a clear testimony that she had been holding her friend tight only moments ago. A chill ran down the girl's back and she gritted her teeth against a cry of horror, which turned into a thick lump in her throat that obstructed her breathing. _When they threw me around, I must have lost my grip. What if he...no, he can't be back there._ Katrina moved to stand, then slumped down, knowing that Starscream's claws would close around her the second she tried to get away. Even if by some miracle she escaped him, there was Scalpel to deal with, not to mention finding her way back to the room where Megatron was conversing with his master. The girl buried her face in her hands, ignoring the sting of contact between raw wounds and salty perspiration. _I can't believe I dropped him._

"Well, where did you put them? Skywarp is supposed to be in the brig and without stasis cuffs he won't-"

"Oh, sorry, Screamer, are you looking for these?"

Katrina recognized the voice and didn't bother to look up at the mech who had transported her to this horrible place. _Whatever stasis cuffs are, I hope they're painful when you're wearing them._

"Skywarp, hand that crate over right now."

"Why? It's not as if I'll get out of being cuffed if I do. Unless I will, in which case you can have the whole crate to yourself."

Starscream's voice moved to a higher pitch and Katrina moved her hands to her ears, wincing as her eardrums vibrated painfully. "That is a direct order, Skywarp."

"I wish you wouldn't pull rank on me," the other Seeker whined, and there was a loud clank, which Katrina guessed was the crate in question being set down.

"Now you can warp us to the brig so I don't have to haul your chassis over there," Starscream ordered, and suddenly the terrible darkness returned, swallowing Katrina until she had lost all sense of who she was and where she was going before they popped back into existence with a gut-wrenching lurch.

What happened next was not entirely of her doing, though her will to never disappear like that again may have had something to do with it, fueled with the despair that she had lost Morse, this time forever. With a strangled shout Katrina flung out her hands blindly, somehow knowing the exact position of the purple Seeker. Instead of drawing power from herself this time, she drew it in, feeling the sharp tingle run beneath her skin like electricity until the girl felt as if she were glowing.

"Stop!" a voice called from the distance, a pleading tone in it that sounded strange, but Katrina refused to listen, concentrating on pulling more of that wonderful power from its source that beat like her own heart, speeding up as hers did until they both stopped for a split second.

* * *

When his brother began to convulse, Starscream didn't know what was going on. Then the human's pulse shot way up, setting off a warning in his sensors, and he glanced down. In that brief moment when his optics were not on Skywarp, the other mech collapsed on the ground, spasms shaking his body as he groaned and clawed at his chest.

Starscream barely registered his trinemate's movement, optics riveted on the creature kneeling in his hand, her arms outstretched and pain twisting her face while blue light shimmered around her hands. He remembered seeing this same phenomenon before, the night Megatron had been first revived, but this time there was something different – instead of sliding from her skin the light was being absorbed. Following its shimmering trail in the air, barely perceptible even to his finely tuned sensors, the Seeker's spark flickered in unison with his brother's, which seemed to be fading. All too swiftly, yet far too slowly, Starscream realized what was happening.

"Stop!" he cried, claws curling around the human before he gave her a sharp shake, mindful of her delicate frame but willing to risk harming her if it meant his brother would be saved. Astroseconds later the Seeker wished he hadn't been so hasty, because both Skywarp's and the human's pulses increased rapidly before flat-lining at the same moment. Swearing, Starscream dropped the human on the nearest berth in the brig cell and knelt beside his trinemate, searching for the smallest flicker of the purple mech's spark. He could feel nothing.

_"Starscream, did you feel that?"_ Thundercracker's transmission was loud with worry. _"Skywarp's signature just disappeared and I can't reach his spark."_

Starscream vented heavily, crushing the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. _"I think he might be dead,_" he replied, keeping his voice as level as possible. _"The human is as well. She did something, drew his spark energy out, perhaps. I haven't finished analyzing the data yet."_ Hatred, despair, anger... Negative emotions twisted together over their trinebond until he couldn't tell his from Thundercracker's. He forced himself to dampen their connection for the moment. _"I will contact you shortly, let me try to save Skywarp first."_

_ "You said the human drained his spark of power, how is that possible?"_

_"I don't know,"_ Starscream admitted, venting again as he began removing chest plates that blocked his access to Skywarp's spark chamber. _"Let me work in peace for a bit, I don't want to do any more damage."_

_ "Understood,"_ said Thundercracker, unable to hide the hint of hope in his voice. He at least still had faith in his older brother, even if Starscream was losing faith in himself.

If only he'd been a bit faster to notice the problem, perhaps he could have stopped it in time. Starscream berated himself over and over, working as fast as he dared. The faintest signal brushed against his spark as he removed the last piece of armor and saw a tiny blue flicker in the lowest depths of Skywarp's spark chamber. _"He's alive!"_ Overwhelming relief flowed from him across their trinebond and back from Thundercracker.

_"I'm coming your way, don't move him until I get there."_

_ "Can't move him, it could be all the shock his spark needs right now to go out."_ Systems were overheating and his cooling fans worked overtime to keep up, but Starscream ignored the outward signs of his nervousness and tried to think of what to do next. Unsure, he contacted Thundercracker, knowing that while the other bot's scientific knowledge was far inferior to his own, his trinemate did have a habit of considering things Starscream never would.

_"What about the human? If she did this to him, can't she undo it?"_

_ "She is off-lined,"_ Starscream replied, shooting a quick glance toward the berth he had dumped her lifeless corpse on, only to find its surface empty. _"Oh, slag."_

_ "If that is short for 'oh, slag, I was wrong again', Megatron is going to send you to the Pit."_

_"Shut up and get here fast. You will have to find the human, I need to stay with Skywarp."_ A high-pitched whine from beneath the berth caught Starscream's attention and he peered under it, sharp optics soon picking out the human's huddled form near the wall in the back. _"Never mind, I found it."_

"Please...stop..." The human was rocking back and forth, clutching her head, and offered no resistance when Starscream reached under the berth and scooped her up in one hand. Drawing her out, he glared down at the shivering human.

"You are going to undo whatever you just did to my trinemate and you are going to do it now, before I rip your puny excuse of a spark from your chest myself," he snarled, dropping her onto Skywarp's chest beside the exposed spark chamber. "Stop whimpering and do it. Now."

* * *

Her chest ached, perhaps from the rough treatment she had received, perhaps from her heart trying to hammer its way out through her ribs. Either way, Katrina could spare little thought for that pain while a larger one scratched its way through her head. The words had never been clearer, but neither had the headache been so strong, almost bad enough to send her reeling into unconsciousness again. When the Seeker dragged her from the shelter she had sought through sheer instinct alone, the girl was unable to struggle, lost in an internal battle she was beginning to lose between herself and the tingling power that still coursed through her veins. It was wild and strong, seeking a way back to where it had come, and all Katrina's strength was spent containing it.

Starscream's words filtered through her ears like a distant roar, words lost save for the last one, so steeped in emotion that it shocked her and she lost concentration for a split second. The rushing release of the power escaping her grasp caused Katrina to gasp and keel forward. For the second time in as many minutes, darkness claimed her, this one deeper than the last.


	22. One Step Closer

And with this chapter, we should be back to the normal schedule of posting - beginning and middle of each month (basically every two weeks). Hurray!

As I just finished writing this tonight, and it's currently after midnight, there are probably some mistakes in it. Please point out any you notice and I will correct them.

Happy Belated Pi Day, by the way! In honor of said event, this chapter is slightly longer than usual, ending at exactly 3141 words. I'm a bit of a math geek, after all...

Thank you so much for reviewing! I truly appreciate your words, be they comments or criticism. I would also like to thank you for faving and/or alerting, and hope you all continue to enjoy this story.

EDIT: How embarrassing! I found a major mistake in continuity...TC went from being concerned about 'Warp to being on patrol. Oops. Mistake corrected now.

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

One Step Closer

When Katrina came to, a small part of her searched for the missing power and mourned its loss, but that feeling was far outweighed by an immense relief. She opened her eyes and moved to sit up, wincing when the pressure on her hands stung their wounds. The girl looked around, finding herself on the bench jutting from the wall in the room again. A berth in a prison cell, if the bars in front of her were any indication, though it would not have held her for long, since the smallest space between the bars was more than enough for her to slip through. Not that she could have tried such a move even had her mind been moving fast enough to consider the idea before Starscream snatched her up. The Seeker's claws held her a little too tightly to be comfortable, but Katrina kept her complaints locked behind clenched teeth. Judging by the dark look in the mech's optics, he was ready to kill her at the slightest provocation, and with good reason, she realized with a shiver, goosebumps crawling over skin that had recently been charged with energy. Her memory went no further than the beginning of the power drainage and her short-lived attempt to hide, but the mech sprawled out on the floor was proof enough of what she'd done. Only the soft flicker of his revealed spark kept Katrina from crying out in shock and held sharp nausea at bay. At least the mech was alive.

"If you ever do that again, I will squeeze the life out of you," Starscream snarled, holding her up so his glaring red optics could lock gazes with her violet eyes. "Do you understand?"

"I don't...I didn't..." Katrina stammered, beginning to shake. The girl didn't feel tired like she normally did after using the power, but that was a small comfort. If she understood the situation correctly, she had almost killed someone, and 'Con or not, he hadn't done anything to her. _Except help kidnap me_, whispered a small voice in the back of her mind. _And who knows how many Autobots have been killed by him. But murdering him in cold blood – cold energon? – isn't right. What would Jazz and Barricade say? Or Morse?_ Suddenly Katrina was glad her friend hadn't been with her to witness the incident. She stared down at the trickles of blood running across her palms, imagining her hands stained red, or blue, with someone's life. _I can't believe I did that,_ Katrina thought, even as she tried to figure out what exactly had happened. Obviously the power was becoming more erratic. When the Fallen had been revived she had had no control over it at all, and this time she hadn't had a chance to realize what was happening before...had she fainted? Her memory simply went blank after the power's initialization. _What if this happens again and hurts Morse or Frenzy? Or one of the Autobots if they try to rescue me?_

"What just happened?" Skywarp's words slurred together and he had to try three times to sit back, wings twitching a little. "Screamer, did you shoot me with those null-rays of yours again?"

Starscream vented air, making a slight wind that stirred the girl's hair and made her shiver. "The human almost killed you."

"The squishy did _what_?" The purple mech struggled to his feet, swaying a little. "I feel like I just overcharged on energon."

"Better than undercharged," Starscream muttered, almost too quiet for Katrina to hear.

Katrina shuddered again, this time feeling the phantom flicker of the power that had come so fast and swift and had felt so indescribably...powerful. Like she could do anything. The girl's stomach twisted, bile burning her throat when she swallowed.

"That wasn't very nice," Skywarp grumbled, raising a claw to poke Katrina. He whined in protest when Starscream held the girl out of reach. "Why didn't you squish it?"

"Tempting as that may be, we would not want to harm the bearer of the AllSpark. At least, not yet."

Katrina froze, recognizing that tone of voice, a scientific one used by people who saw her as nothing more than a half-failed experiment requiring close monitoring and plenty of tests to determine what went right or wrong before she would be disposed of. Goosebumps rippled down her arms as she remembered the last time someone had used that voice around her, and half-expected the power to leap out and try to kill the Decepticon. It didn't. _Maybe it ran out of energy_, she thought, hopeful and disappointed at the same time. _How long until I have to start worrying about hurting someone, though? A week? A day? An hour?_

"Organic," Starscream said, enough impatience twisted through the word that it caught Katrina's immediate attention. "You will tell me what I want to know, and perhaps I will refrain from destroying you as ordered by our illustrious but occasionally irrational leader."

"I won't tell you anything about the Autobots," Katrina said firmly. _I've already caused so much trouble for them..._

"What about the Neutrals? Or should I say Neutral, now that Soundwave is in the process of reformatting Frenzy? Unless you've managed to gather more Neutrals than I know about, which is-"

The mech's chatter faded to a meaningless noise as the pounding of the girl's heart filled her ears. Frenzy, reformatted? Were they erasing his memory? Or only the sections that mattered?

"Judging by your sudden increase in pulse rate, I believe you are concerned for your former ally," said Starscream, sounding amused. "How sentimental of you. Unfortunately, being a symbiote of Soundwave is not something you can simply cast aside when you feel like it."

_I can't take this._ Katrina buried her face in her hands, mind racing to think of a solution that simply wasn't there. _I can't protect anyone, not even myself. Useless, good-for-nothing, pathetic..._ The string of adjectives she applied to herself grew longer with each passing moment as the girl's already flagging spirit sank deeper into despair, to the point that she almost stopped breathing.

* * *

"Enough of that," Starscream snapped, jabbing the girl in the ribs with a careful claw. He didn't want to harm the human, but if she didn't start cooperating he'd move on to other means of convincing her to do so. _"Skywarp, go find Thundercracker."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because I said so and he is not answering his comm right now,"_ grumbled the silver Seeker, knowing his brother wouldn't leave just for that reason alone. _"We are going on patrol, and on the way we will get rid of this nuisance."_

_ "I thought you were going to keep it?"_

_ "Lord Megatron ordered it disposed of, and so I shall, once I have extracted what information I need from it."_

_ "Starscream?"_

His trinemate had just used his full name, never a good sign. Starscream vented loudly. _"What is it now?"_

_ "Why doesn't Lord Megatron use the AllSpark power to bring back all the dead Cons?"_

_ "There are several reasons why he does not consider that a good idea, including the fact that many of those mechs were killed by him. Also, if the human were to escape, we would have difficulty capturing it again, and the last thing we would want is more Autobots running around. Not to mention her apparent gift for luring Cons to the other side."_

_ "Last time wasn't so hard. That plane didn't stand a chance."_

_ "Last time we were lucky."_ Very lucky, and with a bit of cloaking on their side. If they tried that stunt again, Starscream had no doubt that the Autobots would be ready for them. Despite the surprising sense in Skywarp's reasoning, there were just too many ways things could go wrong. Including this new discovery of what else the AllSpark vessel seemed capable of. Gazing down at the human crouched in his hand, Starscream frowned. He wasn't going to have nearly enough time for all the tests he wanted to run.

Skywarp took a couple steps toward the door, pinging it to open since the wall button was on the other side, out of reach. _"Where is Thundercracker?"_

_ "If I knew, I wouldn't be sending you to find him,"_ Starscream replied, becoming exasperated with his dense trinemate. "_If you would rather that I just went, say so, don't make me stand here for another breem answering stupid questions."_

_ "Screamer-"_

_ "GET GOING NOW."_

A strangled noise came from the squishy, and Starscream looked to find the girl curled up in his palm, hands clamped over her ears, face twisted into a grimace as she tried to keep the sounds of pain from escape her mouth.

_"And Skywarp?"_ Starscream added, watching his brother leave the cell at a quick pace and vanish down the corridor of the brig,_"don't comm me if it isn't necessary."_

_ "How come the squishy can hear us, Screamer?"_ A slight note of worry conveyed over their trinebond didn't escape the silver mech's notice, and he shared the sentiment to an extent. The human was a strange one and he truly wished he had more time to study her, but Megatron would find out if he kept her aboard the Nemesis and his chassis still ached from the last near death encounter he had had with his leader's fusion cannon.

_"I will try to figure that out while you look for Thundercracker. There are a few tests I can administer without being in my laboratory."_ Starscream felt a movement in his hand and vented hard – the human had scrambled to her feet and jumped. "You know," he said aloud, catching the girl before she fell too far, "that is really not good for your long term health."

The girl shuddered, twisting in the mech's claws though she knew she had no chance of escaping again. "You're just going to kill me anyway," she muttered, face white, any pretense of hiding her emotions gone, chased away by the adrenaline-laced fear that coursed through her veins, spiking her heart rate to more than twice its normal speed.

"If you do not calm down, you will hurt yourself without my aid." Starscream left the brig in the opposite direction his brother had taken, heading for the nearest airlock. _"Skywarp, meet me at the aft-port airlock once you find Thundercracker."_ There was no response, which did not surprise him. Skywarp never did things in halves – if he was going to be talkative, he talked constantly, otherwise he could be as silent as deep space.

"Starscream-wait."

"Spying for Soundwave as usual, Rumble?" the Seeker growled, looking down at the smaller mech. All it would take was one burst of his null ray and Rumble would be in stasis lock until someone found him. However, Soundwave's connection to his symbiotes was not well understood and Starscream knew that when the mech was found he would tell Soundwave exactly what happened. Then the communications officer would tell Megatron, who would take the opportunity to try killing Starscream again. The Seeker decided it was more effort than the action was worth, and settled for glaring at the mech while he waited for a reply to his sarcastic comment.

Rumble was used to the accusation and shrugged it off with a gesture too humanlike for Starscream's taste. "Soundwave-wants-the-human-now. Better-not-make-him-wait-or-Megatron-will-hear."

"I am sure he would," Starscream grumbled, at the same time sending on his trine's private channel, _"Skywarp, you and Thundercracker stand by until I say move, we have a slight problem I must deal with first."_

_ "How slight?"_

_ "Why were you not answering your comm, Thundercracker?"_

_ "Megatron delayed me."_

_ "You could not even contact me over our private channel?"_

_ "Not with Soundwave right there, as well as... Starscream, the Fallen is back."_

_ "I know. Try not to contact me if you do not need to, the human seems to be adversely affected by nearby comming."_ Even now the girl was making that face again, fingers jammed into her ears.

"Are-you-coming?" Rumble demanded, and Starscream vented air, reminding himself that it would not be all right to smash the little mech into a pile of spare parts, no matter how tempting the idea might be.

"Lead on," said the Seeker, stalking after the little mech. At least the human was being quiet, though he wasn't sure he liked the calculating look in her eyes. If she thought she had a chance of saving her friend, the human was going to find out soon that was not the case. Once Soundwave reformatted the mech, there was no possible way the girl could change it, AllSpark power or not. Though Starscream could not help but wonder what would happen if she tried. What cruel irony it would be if the human terminated her friend by accident.

"Enter," Soundwave said when Starscream stopped outside the communications officer's room.

The Seeker waited for the door to open fully before he entered behind Rumble. "I thought Scalpel had first dibs on the squishy?" He didn't miss the human's shiver at the mention of the medic, if you could even refer to said mech as such.

"You forgot as well," said Soundwave, his tone not changing in the slightest. Holding out his hand, the mech waited for Starscream to drop the human in his palm. "Lord Megatron gave permission to study the human before disposal."

"I would be interested in learning what you discover," Starscream said, handing over the human with some trepidation, knowing he had no choice. "Should you need assistance, let me know." Without waiting for a reply, he left, already planning how to recover the squishy before it was disposed of, as Soundwave had put it so bluntly.

* * *

Katrina went from being terrified of the Seeker to wishing he had taken her with him. After what Soundwave had done to Frenzy even before he had dragged him off supposedly for repairs – had she known they were planning to reformat him, the girl would have healed him herself – the last thing she wanted was to be tested upon by the same mech who seemed to have no qualms about erasing someone's memories. Hugging her knees to her chest, Katrina's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route or a place to hide, then realized that if she tried hiding anywhere, Rumble was small and strong enough to simply drag her out.

A loud squawk came from behind Soundwave and Katrina caught a glimpse of the noisemaker when she was set down on a long table amidst neat piles of datapads. Metal feathers slid against each other noiselessly on a pair of wings that stretched to several yards in length as their owner flapped them to take to the air and circle above the table.

"Laserbeak, roost," Soundwave ordered, but he did not nudge the mech off his shoulder when the bird landed there, folding his wings and making a soft noise of curiosity, this being the first human he had seen close up.

Katrina, however, had seen the metal bird before, and the phantom pain of talons digging into her shoulders made her scramble back as Soundwave approached the table. The girl wanted as much space between herself and this Laserbeak as possible. _He was in the dream I had, the night before Prowl came to tell us about Prime's death._ Her heart ached, remembering that day. First the feeling of utter loss, then betrayal when she learned they hadn't even considered asking her for help. What was the use of her power if she didn't use it for her friends' benefit? _Other than bringing dead Cons back because they threaten my other friends... Morse!_ Katrina could have kicked herself for forgetting the spider for even a moment. _I have to find him, but in order to do that, I will have to get out of this room._

"Watch the human until I return," Soundwave said, then left, Laserbeak still on his shoulder. Katrina relaxed slightly before freezing when another squawk came just before a second metal bird landed on the table right in front of her.

"You-slagging-idiot-if-you-give-the-human-a-heart-attack-Soundwave-will-be-angry." Rumble vaulted onto the table with an ease that suggested he did so all the time. Whether he had planned it or not, the mech landed between the other Con and the human.

The bird made a low hissing sound and took a step forward. "Tell me do what again and you too die."

"Go-fry-your-processors," Rumble retorted. "Or-should-I-tell-Soundwave-about-this?"

To Katrina's surprise, the bird did as ordered, though not without one last scorching look in her direction. The girl gulped, realizing that this Con was probably on par with Scalpel where humans were concerned. She managed to stop herself before any words of gratitude slipped out. Rumble was just doing what Soundwave had ordered.

Resting her chin on her knees, Katrina wondered if she had time for a nap, if it was even safe enough to close her eyes for a few minutes. Her eyelids chose for her, sliding shut, and the girl leaned against a nearby stack of datapads. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but she didn't want to curl up on the tabletop. Something brushed her hair and the girl jerked out of her slight doze to find Rumble standing too close for comfort, watching her with unfathomable red optics.

"What do you want?" she asked tersely, eyes narrowed, ready to bolt if necessary. The ease with which the girl was learning to jump from high places without hesitation would probably cause her guardians some concern, but it was becoming a much better alternative to whatever mech currently had her captive had planned. First reviving Megatron's master, then almost killing the Seeker, now waiting to be studied like an insect that would be chloroformed as soon as it was no longer needed, while a mech that reminded her far too much of her lost friend was scrutinizing her like she truly was an insect under a magnifying glass.

"The-sparkling-is-gone," Rumble stated, not an accusation, though it might as well have been. Katrina flinched and looked down at her scratched hands.

"Yes, he is," she whispered, rolling her fingers into fists despite the pain. "It's my fault."

"What-happened?"

"If you want to know, ask your master to read my mind when he gets back," Katrina snapped, turning away. "It worked so well last time."

The mech moved so he was standing in front of her again, and this time she simply glared, not sure what game he was trying to play. Whatever he had planned, mocking her for being worried or laughing at her weakness, she wasn't in the mood for it. Then Rumble held out one hand, claws unfolding around a small cell phone that the girl would recognize anywhere.

"Morse!" she exclaimed, reaching for her friend even as he transformed and leapt.


	23. Ravage

Updating a little early, as a preemptive apology for Human Experiment's next chapter being a little late. Those of you who are following that story, please forgive me, I procrastinated and said chapter will probably take another day or two to complete. Maybe three. Four at most. Stupid writer's block shows up whenever I most need the words flowing...

On the bright side of things, Chapter 24 of RS is nearly complete, so April may see three updates instead of two, depending on how my muse feels.

Monthly Disclaimer: I don't own, I don't make money from it. If I did, I would not have a mountain of scholarship applications waiting to be filled out this weekend, now that I know I'm going to my dream college...

Last of all, thank you for your lovely reviews, for faving, for alerting, and for simply reading as well. I can't express how deeply it touches me to know my writing is being enjoyed.

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Three

Ravage

Tears streamed down Katrina's face. Stress, relief, fear, gratitude, so many emotions swirled inside her that she had to let them out somehow, and crying was the quietest way.

OK OK OK, Morse clicked, over and over, rubbing his head against his friend's fingers as she clutched him to her chest, ignoring the pain from where his sharp edges jabbed the wounds on her palms and drew fresh blood. Finally the little mech noticed the liquid dripping onto his chassis and ordered, DOWN!

"Sorry," Katrina said, thinking she had held him too tightly, and set the little spider on her shoulder before springing up to wrap her arms around the unsuspecting Decepticon. Rumble began to wriggle at once and the girl released him immediately. "Thank you," she said, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

"You-are-welcome." Rumble said, sounding uncomfortable. After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Will-you-do-me-a-favor?"

_Anything!_ shouted a large part of her, but the sharp side of Katrina's mind prevented her from speaking the word aloud. Instead she said, "What kind of favor?"

"I-will-show-you." Rumble walked to the edge of the table and jumped down, then beckoned to her. The girl looked at the ten foot drop and shook her head. "I'll break a leg."

"Buzzsaw," Rumble called, and mere seconds later Katrina let out a scream as she suddenly became airborne, held by the back of her shirt caught tight in the metal bird's beak.

She was released a few feet from the floor and tumbled to a stop, after which she checked that Morse was still on her shoulder. Katrina was not going to let her friend out of her sight again. Having confirmed that the spider was clinging to her jacket, the girl turned to Rumble, who was already walking to the other side of the room, where a second table stood.

"Up-there," he said, pointing, and Katrina tilted her head back until she caught a glimpse of a long metal form lying on the table's surface.

"Who is it?" she asked quietly, knowing what he wanted her to do. _Even if I thought bringing back another Decepticon could ever be a good idea, the power might not work. Should I try anyway?_ Indecision leaned her thoughts one way, then the other. On the one hand, this would only cause more trouble for the Autobots if it worked. However, Rumble had rescued Morse, perhaps even protected him, and though he obviously had had an ulterior motive, the girl felt she owed him something.

"Ravage," said Rumble, answering her question and interrupting her wavering thoughts. "You-might-call-him-a-brother-of-mine-like-Frenzy."

The mention of her friend made Katrina flinch, but she squared her shoulders and gestured toward the table anyway. "How do I get up?"

Buzzsaw answered that for her, picking the girl up again and setting her down a moment later with a little more gentleness than before. Rumble hopped up and watched Katrina pace the length of the semi-curled body. It was long, roughly the size of a wild cat and perhaps bearing a similar shape if the long tail, sinuous body and gently pointed head were anything to go by. The damage was enough to make her stomach churn, almost as bad as the Fallen's broken chassis.

"I don't know if I can do this," she warned the two watchers before plucking Morse off her shoulder and holding him out to Rumble. "Please watch him and stay back. I don't want anyone to get hurt." As the mechs complied, Katrina drew in a few deep breaths, then rubbed her hands together and knelt by the head. No tingle of power quivered under her skin as she touched the mech's cold chassis, and the girl remained still for a few minutes, until she was consciously willing the power to gather.

At last she had to admit defeat and let her hands drop, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, it's not coming."

Without a word, Rumble handed Morse back and jumped down from the table. Buzzsaw took off at the same moment and flew back to his perch on what looked like an oversized filing cabinet, leaving Katrina stranded on the table. Not that she cared. A sudden bout of sleepiness overtook her and the girl leaned against Ravage's head, closing her eyes just for a minute, more than enough time for sleep to steal her away.

* * *

"What do you mean, you knew the Fallen has returned?" Thundercracker demanded the moment he and Skywarp rounded a corner in the hallway to come face to face with their trinemate. "Did the human do this?"

"Unfortunately," growled Starscream, whose bad mood was obvious from his optics glowing with anger, wings held high and quivering, and the fact he was pacing back and forth as he spoke to his brothers, resembling a caged tiger.

"Not even a squishy would be that stupid, would it?" Skywarp protested, unable to believe his audio receptors.

"Apparently they can be."

"Did the insect have something to do with it?" asked Skywarp.

Thundercracker stiffened, remembering the small sparkling he had returned to the girl over a year ago. Was that the insect his trinemate meant?

"Threatening a human's companions seems to be the best way to make it do what you want,  
Starscream replied. "Megatron may find it a good thing he ordered the organic's termination after giving Soundwave permission to reformat Frenzy."

Thundercracker vented air. "Is he really going to do that?"

"Who knows," Starscream said in a tone of voice that said he could not care less. "Right now our problem is Soundwave now has the human in his possession."

Skywarp's optics went wide. "How did that happen? You had it a breem ago."

"Immediately after you left Rumble stopped me in the hall and insisted that Soundwave wanted the human. Had I argued no doubt Megatron would have been brought into the matter, and any chance of studying the human myself would be lost."

"Instead you want to break into Soundwave's quarters and take it," Thundercracker reasoned.

Skywarp's voice was a few octaves higher than usual as he gasped, "Is your processor cracked? Soundwave's room?"

"His symbiotes would alert him to our presence before we even got past the door," said Thundercracker, shaking his head. "'Warp's right, your processor has cracked."

"If we plan it right," said Starscream, "he will be in and out before they even notice the entry."

"Oh, no," Skywarp said, taking a step back and holding up his hands. "I am not teleporting in Soundwave's quarters. Especially not after what happened last time."

Starscream tried not to recall the images, but they rose unbidden from a special databank he reserved for his brother's idiotic pranks, this one involving several buckets of glow-in-the-dark paint and several cubes of energon. "Did I ask you to volunteer? I would do it, except I can't teleport."

"Why not ask the Fallen, he at least would have a chance of survival against Megatron." Skywarp's wings drooped at the incredulous looks his trinemates gave him following this suggestion. "It was a joke, honest."

"Not funny," Thundercracker growled before turning to the silver mech. "What exactly is your plan, Starscream? And it had better be a good one."

"Oh, it is."

* * *

Upon the arrival of the rescue ship, Prime convinced Ratchet that Sam would be all right for half an hour's travel to the dock and back, just to welcome those who had made it. After all, if they wanted to train the boy to someday take Galloway's place as liaison between the human government and the Autobots, now would be as good a time as any to get started by seeing exactly how not to do the job. Galloway was quite good at demonstrating this, as he proved by arriving just before the gangplank had been lowered, waving a hefty sheaf of papers and shouting for attention, which the Autobot leader deigned to give him, hiding a smile at the obvious roll of Sam's eyes. The teen sat in Optimus's hand, wrapped in blankets, still covered in bandages, though he insisted it looked far worse than it felt.

"How may I assist you?" Prime inquired, kneeling so he was closer to Galloway's height, though his large body still loomed over the human. Already his scans were studying the dense writing on the papers, and his optics narrowed, though he waited for the liaison to explain.

"Your Autobot friend has been cleared to disembark, but I am afraid there is an issue with the Neutral." Judging by the triumphant look in the man's eyes, he had created the problem. "He will have to remain in your brig until we have resolved the matter."

"I understand your concern, Liaison Galloway, but I can pledge on my honor as a Prime that Barricade will cause you no trouble, nor bother the other inhabitants of this base. His stay here will be short, for brief repairs and-"

Galloway flapped a hand, dismissing Prime's words. "I don't care if he's only here to gas up before swimming back to where he came from. No unallied robot will be given permission to wander about a top secret military base on my watch."

"I will assign an escort, then," Optimus said, his patience beginning to wear thin, though he was careful not to show it.

"I'll do it," Sam offered. "Bee can help."

"No," Galloway said firmly. "You can ask the President, if you like, though I doubt he would agree to rescind basic military law."

"Where in your laws does it state a civilian must be thrown in prison for setting foot on military land?"

"If you lock him up, you'll have to do the same to me," Sam added, folding his arms, despite the way the move tugged on the bandages around his back and chest. "Then Ratchet will be mad at you."

Not a very subtle threat, Prime mused, but it would have been successful had Galloway been a different man, or at least one who knew the medic personally. Instead of getting flustered, the man shrugged. "Why should that concern me?"

Sam deflated, unsure how to answer that. The Autobot medic could have probably dealt with any other human with ease, but Galloway had an immunity that common soldiers did not share, and that was a direct line to the president. While the teen considered what might be the best way to convince the man to leave Barricade alone, short of begging Optimus to let Lennox and his men drop the guy from another plane, this time without a parachute, he half-listened to the Prime continue his discussion with the liaison. The teen frowned. _I wonder how it makes him feel, having to argue to help someone who would have shot him on sight not too long ago. He's a lot more forgiving than I am._

Heavy footsteps warned of an approaching mech, more than one Sam realized when he glanced up to find Ironhide and Ratchet storming in Optimus's direction, neither wearing a pleased expression.

"Optimus, we have a situation on the ship," Ratchet said, his tone of annoyance seconded nonverbally by the whir of Ironhide's on-lined cannons. "They are refusing to let Barricade disembark and Jazz won't budge from the ship until they do."

"I know. Galloway is explaining the situation to me right now. Where is Sunstreaker?"

"Sideswipe took him to the washracks to get cleaned up, something about salt damaging his paint." Ratchet's optics narrowed. "I did give him a quick scan and he is not as badly injured as he should have been. There are recently healed places that his nannites should not have been able to deal with."

"Katrina," Optimus said quietly, venting air. That did not bode well. He had half-hoped the AllSpark's power had been transferred to Sam somehow, which would leave the girl an unsuitable target for the Decepticons, but apparently there was more to that ancient artifact than he had thought possible. "Did you ask him how it happened?"

"No, but your guess is the same as mine. I will confirm it when I give him an examination later. Right now, Jazz and Barricade are higher priority. They are both injured, not too badly, but enough that I would like to patch them up as soon as possible."

"Your friend is welcome to get repaired and refueled for whatever his next mission is," Galloway said, and Sam had to give the other human a little credit for not flinching under the dark glare Ratchet turned on him.

"They are both going to get repaired whether your government likes it or not," growled the medic, his optics flicking to Ironhide and back, probably considering the merits of asking his longtime friend to deal with this nuisance once and for all. However, his background in politics reminded Ratchet that such an action would cause more harm than good in the long run, however beneficial it might be in the short term.

"Surely with your advanced technology, repairing him in the brig would not be difficult," Galloway said, glancing down to brush dust off one arm of his suit. "If you will excuse me, I must report to my superiors. Please have our guest in the brig when I return." The 'or else' dangled from the end of his sentence without a need to voice it.

Optimus said nothing, watching the liaison walk away with troubled optics.

_"Can I take him out?"_

_ "No, Ironhide_," said the Prime, though he almost wished their problems could be solved so easily. _"We do not harm humans."_

_ "Not even the really annoying ones?"_ One of Ratchet's infamous wrenches appeared in his hand and he mimed throwing it after the liaison. The instrument vanished after a sharp look from his leader, but the medic continued to glare hard enough at the retreating man that by all rights Galloway should have gone up in a puff of smoke.

_"Not even those,_" Optimus replied, unable to keep a hint of amusement from his transmission. _"I will try reasoning with the ship's guards, perhaps they would be willing to release Barricade into our custody."_

_ "I can always help convince them,"_ Ironhide said even as he retracted his cannons.

"No," said Prime aloud, and Sam gave a loud sigh in his hand.

"Can't Ironhide just shoot him?" the teen begged.

"No," Optimus said again, then asked, half-afraid and half-hoping, "did you hear our transmissions?"

Sam shook his head to the Autobots' mutual relief. "No, just guessed from the way you guys were looking at him." He jerked a thumb in the liaison's direction, then turned his worried gaze toward the ship. "What are you going to do about Barricade?"

"Speak with the ship's guards," Optimus said, "and hope they can be reasoned with."

"What if they can't?"

"Then Barricade must remain in the brig during his stay here," replied the Prime, venting air again.

"I don't like it," Ratchet said. "Ex-Con or not, he is a guardian now and being separated from his charge is hard enough on his spark as it is. Being treated like a prisoner could only make his condition worse."

"What condition?" Sam asked, absently rubbing a hand against his head, which was starting to hurt again. Whatever tranquilizer they had given him earlier was finally wearing off, and he already missed the numbness. "Is he sick?"

"His spark is, at any rate." Ratchet searched for a suitable analogy. "If someone kidnapped Mikaela, how would that make you feel?"

"I'd want to get her back," Sam replied, scowling. "And make the person responsible pay."

"But while you waited for a ransom note, your heart would ache with worry, correct?"

"Yes. Oh." Sam slapped his forehead, feeling like an idiot for having to have it spelled out for him. He decided to blame the large amount of anesthetic that had been pumped into him, the remnants of which were still making him dizzy. "I get it now."

Optimus held his hand out to Ratchet. "Take Sam back to medbay."

"I want to go with you," the teen protested. "Maybe the lock-me-up-too argument will work on those guys."

"Perhaps," Prime said, giving a slow shake of his head. "But it might also have the opposite effect. These men take orders from Galloway, not myself, nor from you."

"Someday," the teen muttered as he allowed himself to be transferred from one warm metallic hand to the other, "I want to be the one who gives that guy a pink slip."

"What would he do with an article of women's underclothing?" Ratchet asked as they headed in the direction Sam and Optimus had come from not ten minutes before.

The teen sighed and began explaining yet another idiom to the Autobot, who had refused to look up any more strange terms on the internet after he had repaired Prowl's logic circuits four times in as many days following the tactical officer's mistake of doing the same thing.


	24. Twisting Fates

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter - a whole week behind schedule! My excuse can be by no means called good - Dad fell down our stairs two weeks ago and broke some ribs and punctured a lung. Then he contracted pneumonia at the hospital. He's home now and doing okay, but these past few weeks have been stressful and left me little time to myself for anything.

To make up for being late, this chapter is slightly longer than usual, at least according to MS Word's word counter. Which never seems to agree with FFN...

As always, I'd like to thank you for faving, alerting, and/or taking the time to review. I love knowing what you think of my writing, even if it's criticism. Please feel free to point out any mistakes to see, I try to catch them all but no one's perfect.

(edited 19/5/2011 due to missing spacer)**  
**

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Four

Twisting Fates

Opening her eyes, Katrina wished fervently for a brief moment that she might wake some time actually feeling rested. Instead her body ached even more than it had when the girl had closed her eyes. Muscles protested as she pushed herself up, blinking slowly, trying to reorient herself. The long metal corpse she had fallen asleep against still lay there unmoving. Buzzsaw was on his perch as before, and Katrina relaxed a little upon seeing this. _I must not have been out for long._

Morse chirped in her hands and she looked down, smiling at the welcome sight of her little friend. "Hi to you, too," the girl whispered, keeping an eye on the bird Decepticon and using the other to search for Rumble, who she found sitting slumped on another table nearby, as still and silent as a statue. "Why didn't it work, Morse?"

Her friend shrugged with a soft rolling movement of his legs. NOT KNOW.

"Neither do I." _Perhaps it's just as well, the last thing the Autobots need is another Decepticon out for their energon._ Leaning on the metal cat's shoulder to give herself leverage enough to stand, Katrina froze, feeling a pulsing warmth where it had been cold before. "Rumble!" the girl shouted, shock tearing the word from her mouth before she could think to stop it. "He's alive!"

No sooner had she spoken than the cat stirred with a soft hiss before sliding to his feet in a fluid motion that finished with him turning to close his teeth around the organic that had dared infiltrate Soundwave's private quarters.

_If someone told me an hour ago I would be happy about this, I would have called them insane,_ Katrina thought, dangling once again from Buzzsaw's claws. The Decepticon had snatched her from the jaws of death, a literal phrase in this case, and he deposited the girl beside Rumble, who was already explaining the situation to Ravage, specifically why he could not hurt the human. Katrina could almost hear an unspoken 'yet' hovering under the mech's words, but said nothing, shaken by how close she had been to dying. One snap of those teeth and the cat could have torn her apart.

Buzzsaw perched near the edge of the table, claws wrapped around the edge to keep his balance as he waved his wings and squawked agreement to Rumble's protests. If the rumbling in Ravage's chest was anything to go by, the Decepticon wasn't happy about the situation.

"Intruderrr," he snarled, raking his claws along the surface of his table, making a noise similar to fingernails on a chalkboard. Still shaking, Katrina couldn't bring herself to move her hands from their position cupped around Morse, even to cover her ears, though the sound scratched against her eardrums painfully.

"Soundwave-will-make-you-repair-that," Rumble said, indicating the gouges the cat's claws had dug, before continuing his argument. "Thehuman-is-under-our-protection-and-she-brought-you-back-so-you-can't-kill-her." It was the third time he'd said those words, and still Ravage looked ready to pounce. Katrina edged backward, freezing when she found herself on the other side of the table, nothing but empty space and a long drop at her back.

"Hurt girl cause trouble," Buzzsaw said, speaking in the same manner as the other Decepticon bird, the one that had left with Soundwave.

_Could they be twins?_ Katrina wondered suddenly. _They look almost identical and they talk like each other, but that would make Frenzy and Rumble twins as well, and Ravage..._ She shuddered. _If there's another cat out there, I don't want to know._

While the girl mused, the Decepticons held another few minutes of back and forth arguing, partly in English and partly in a language Katrina recognized as Cybertronian, though none of the words were familiar. When they finally fell silent, she raised her head to find all three staring at her with unreadable expressions.

"What?" The single word tumbled from her lips before the girl could call it back, and she tried not to flinch as she waited for one of them to respond.

"Was Frrrenzy happy?" Ravage's voice was a gentle purr now that he seemed to have calmed down, and the girl relaxed a little, hoping the Decepticon wasn't trying to lull her into a false sense of security, though she knew there was nothing she could do if that was his plan.

"When?" Katrina replied, knowing what the cat meant but unwilling to offer any more information to the Decepticons. Rumble had admitted before that he only spoke with her because he was gathering information for Soundwave, so she saw no reason to participate in conversations beyond single syllable responses, if she could manage it.

"With Barrricade and you." He spoke the Neutral's name with a slight growl.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" suggested Katrina, unwilling to make a response to that question. _Does it really matter? You're going to reprogram him – it's probably already been done – and that will erase any traces of the mech I knew and cared for._ A sudden burst of anger had her spitting, "I don't know what I was thinking, bringing you back. All you Decepticons do is destroy."

K, Morse whistled sharply, a warning that she may have gone too far.

"Well, it's true," Katrina snapped, her violet eyes burning with a dark look that dared the Decepticons glaring at her to protest.

"Who-saved-the-sparkling?"

The anger drained from the girl as quickly as it had arrived, and she sank onto the table, arms wrapped around her knees. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, burying her face in her arms, unsure why she was apologizing when they were the ones in the wrong. _You take Frenzy away, but rescue Morse when you could have left him to the mercies of Megatron or, worse, that horrible crab. You ask me to bring back your – friend? companion? brother? – then save me from being attacked by him, only to let him remind me of what you've done to Frenzy._ Circular thoughts wouldn't help her, Katrina knew, and she struggled to pull away from the one spinning in her mind.

"Soundwave-will-not-reformat-Frenzy."

"Huh?" Eyes wide, Katrina looked up to meet Rumble's firm red gaze. "What do you mean? He... Megatron..."

The mech shifted uneasily. "Soundwave-told-Megatron-what-he-wanted-to-hear-but-Frenzy-is-our..." He glanced at Buzzsaw, then Ravage before shrugging. "...brother-is-closest-I-can-explain-it."

_So I got that piece right._ Katrina's expression turned solemn as she dared to ask one of the many questions swirling in her mind. "Are you twins?"

Rumble shook his head. "Same-protoform-but-sparked-at-different-times."

She could question him about that later, right now Frenzy was more important. "Are you saying that Soundwave isn't going to hurt Frenzy?"

"Why-would-he?" Rumble sounded amused, as though this was something she should have figured out for herself. "He-is-our-creator. He-will-probably-punish-Frenzy-for-not-returning-but-he-would-never-hurt-him-even-under-Megatron's-orders."

"That will get him into trouble, won't it?" Katrina asked, more to keep the mech talking while he was in the mood than because she cared what would happen to Soundwave. The girl could barely contain her delight that Frenzy would not forget his life with her and Morse and Barricade, but managed to keep her face straight, the smile trying to force its way out a mere twitch at the corners of her mouth.

"Soundwave-is-loyal-to-Megatron-and-will-not-be-harmed-for-dealing-with-us-as-he-sees-fit."

"Where is he, then? Frenzy, I mean?" _Maybe I can repair a little of the harm I've done, if only by healing him._ Remembering how he had tried to protect her despite his own severe injuries made tears sting her eyes, but Katrina had a lot of practice in preventing them from falling and refused to show any more weakness in front of the Decepticons. Unless they considered her attachments to Frenzy and Morse to be weaknesses, but she didn't care what they thought about that. Protecting her friends was the only thing she could do in her current situation, since her military training – or perhaps experimental training would be a better term, pun intended – had failed for the first time in her life. Which, if she ever got a moment to think about it, would terrify the girl, considering where she had been headed before the Decepticons attacked.

"Frrrenzy is safe," Ravage purred, leaping across from one table to the next with a skillful ease. He sat a few feet from the girl, who had to resist the urge to slide away from his teeth which she hoped were bared in a smile, not a snarl.

"Can I see him?" she pleaded, unable to hide her concern. Until she saw for her own eyes that he had been unharmed, the girl would not believe what they were saying. The hope stirring in her heart hurt, but Katrina couldn't bear to halt its growth, not when good fortune had just returned Morse to her without a scratch on his chassis.

"Not-a-good-idea-right-now-he's-resting-maybe-later," Rumble said even more quickly than usual.

It was an unsatisfactory answer, but Katrina gave a short, reluctant nod and promised herself she would press the matter further after a suitable length of time had passed. Perhaps in ten minutes or so. Morse gave a soft chirp as if reading her thoughts, and the girl held her friend closer, still shaken by the thought she might have lost him.

"Thank you."

Katrina looked up, unsure if the cat was addressing her, but he gave a quick dip of his head, his single red optic focused on her face as he added, "Forrr brrringing me back. You have a grrreat gift."

"Or curse," she muttered, turning away, seeing the revived Fallen, an image burned into her mind by white hot anger directed more at herself than anyone else because she had been weak enough to bring back someone who would probably destroy the world. Morse clicked when her fingers tightened around him, and Katrina relaxed her grip slightly with a sigh. "It's not as wonderful as you think."

Ravage cocked his head, ears pricked forward. "Is it a currrse to heal?"

"It's a curse when you bring back the one mech completely bent on destroying my entire world!" She hadn't meant the shout, the words just left her mouth in that fashion, and Katrina flinched when the cat's face moved toward hers, frightened by the sheer size of his teeth. He could bite her in half with ease.

"Megatrrron rrrarely gives a fairrr choice," he purred. "Frrrenzy was forrrtunate to leave when he did. The deserrrt battle destrrroyed many Decepticons."

No need for him to spell that out, Katrina understood what the cat was saying. _Barricade is lucky, too, by your reasoning, but I suppose you don't care about him._ Certainly the cat's reaction to the Neutral's name had been hostile enough that the girl would be avoiding mention of the mech as much as possible.

_I doubt I'll get an answer, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask... _"Why do you follow Megatron?"

"Soundwave-does," Rumble said in a tone that made it clear the subject was closed for discussion.

K SLEEP, Morse chirped, rubbing his head against his friend's fingers before folding into his altmode.

"Not now, Morse," Katrina said, raising one hand to cover her traitorous mouth as it widened in a yawn. "Mind if I ask one more question?"

"Last-one," said Rumble, "then-you-answer-ours."

"If I can."

"If-you-can," the mech agreed.

"What is the difference between a symbiote and a sparkling?" Katrina gulped when the three mechs stared at her in silence. _Maybe that wasn't such a good question._ However, her curiosity had been satisfied that the Decepticons meant her no harm, for the moment, anyway, and had demanded she ask.

"Sparklings-are-young," Rumble said at last, optics darting to the other two. They remained silent and he vented air before answering the rest of her question. "Symbiotes-begin-as-sparklings-too-but-we-are...strongly-connected-to-Soundwave-and-each-other-and-that-bond-lasts-for-our-lifetime."

Katrina frowned. _No wonder he reacted so badly before. Frenzy wasn't supposed to return, he was _meant_ to return to them no matter what, but he stayed instead. What kept him from coming back?_

"He stayed because he was happy," Ravage purred, reading the question in the girl's confused eyes. "And because his death severed his connection with us."

Eyes wide, Katrina opened her mouth, then closed it, unable to think of a decent response to this new turn of events. _I can't imagine what that must be like. Frenzy never said anything about it, and neither did Barricade – did he even know or did Frenzy keep it a secret from everyone?_

* * *

Whether or not Barricade knew what had happened to Frenzy when he came back, the black mech currently had a more immediate problem on his hands, namely a certain presidential order carried by the most annoying human he had ever come across. Somehow that bit of paper he could have incinerated instantly with a quick shot from his cannon was preventing him from leaving the ship's deck unless he headed straight for the Autobot brig.

_"This is unacceptable,"_ he told Jazz, engine revving loudly when the soldiers milling about came too close. _"Why isn't your precious Prime doing something?"_

_ "Squishing them isn't allowed,"_ the saboteur replied, only a slight hint of wistfulness in his transmission. He, like Barricade, was parked in altmode near the gangplank which had been lowered over an hour ago, just before they had been forbidden to set foot on the island. Well, Barricade had been, at least. Jazz had been told to disembark but the mech had refused, which the Neutral would never admit made him feel grateful. It was bad enough to be surrounded by creatures who viewed him with suspicion and would have shot him into scrap a year ago, being alone with the stress of this tense situation as well as the burden of Katrina's capture weighing on his processors was more than Barricade could have taken without something blowing up.

In order to argue more efficiently with the soldiers barricading the gangplank, Jazz was walking about in his hologram, its normal outfit of casual clothing exchanged for a soldier's off-duty uniform. There was nothing to show his rank, but Barricade could tell the hologram was recognized for what is was, if the stiff salutes it had earned upon making an appearance were anything to go by. The soldiers were very polite with their continuous refusals to let the Neutral roll off the ship.

"Sorry, sir, we've got our orders," the captain in charge said, his voice firm despite its apologetic undertone.

"He's not gonna hurt anyone," Jazz replied, folding his arms. "Look, just talk t' Prime, he'll sort this mess out."

"Can he overrule a presidential order, sir? Because that's what is keeping me here, telling you no, that guy can't get off. I'm sorry, sir."

Unable to take this anymore, Barricade's hologram materialized beside Jazz, his normally brown eyes red with anger. "I swear on my life I will not harm anyone. All I need are repairs and some information, then I can leave."

Eying the hologram's police uniform with barely concealed distaste, the captain shook his head. "I can't allow that."

Jazz ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the military-style cut. It fell back into place as he reached to touch Barricade's shoulder, freezing the Neutral just before he could lunge at the captain. "Don't ya dare."

Barricade shook off the Autobot and took a deep breath before leaning so close to the captain's face that the slight electrical field surrounding the hologram caused the man's eyebrow hairs to stand on end. "If I don't get off this ship soon-"

"Enough." The word was spoken quietly, but with enough power behind it that even the Neutral fell silent, though he chafed under the look he was receiving from the Autobot who had spoken. Even as a hologram Prime was an imposing figure, standing about six foot two with a commanding air about him not at all hindered by the plain military uniform he wore.

Folding his arms, Barricade growled, "It's about time. Tell these slaggers to let me off this ship."

Optimus vented air. "I am sorry, Barricade, but until Galloway agrees to rescind the President's order, there is nothing I can do."

If looks could kill even when their target was out of sight, the liaison would have been dead a hundred times over from the glower settled upon Barricade's hologram's face. As it was, even Prime was taken aback a little by the mech's ferocity.

"I'll change his mind, even if I have to go to the President myself, in person," the mech snarled, stressing the last word to make it clear he did not mean as a hologram.

"All right," Prime said, earning noises of surprise from the humans listening in on the conversation and raised eyebrows from Jazz's hologram. "If I don't have a form of release for you within twenty four hours, you may attempt to contact the President yourself."

"That's too long."

"Twenty four hours," Optimus insisted, locking eyes with Barricade, his blue calm warring with the angry red. "I am doing everything in my power to assist you, mech. Remember, you aren't the only one who cares for the child. Jazz, I need you-"

Jazz's hologram shook his head, folding his arms as he took up a defiant stance. "Ah'm stayin' here 'til they let him off."

"Please let me finish," Prime said, his voice a gentle rebuke. "I need you to stay onboard and keep the humans from troubling Barricade, who had better take this short respite to get some rest. Ratchet will be here soon for some quick scans, though any repairs must wait until you are in medbay."

Relaxing, Jazz nodded in agreement as his gaze swept toward the humans standing too close to their altmodes for comfort. At once the men found various reasons to disperse, not liking the look in the hologram's eyes. "No problem."

Barricade bowed his head, not liking the arrangement but knowing he had no choice but to agree if he wanted their eventual help. "Thank you, Prime," he said, nearly choking on the words.

Prime rested his hand on the hologram's shoulder for a brief moment. "I know what you are going through, Barricade, and I swear on my status as a Prime and on my very spark that we will rescue Katrina."

Without replying, Barricade let his hologram flicker out and powered down, not quite into recharge but close enough that he could rest a little while his nannites began repair the lesser damage on his chassis. He heard Prime and Jazz speak a little longer without hearing the words, then the gangplank clanking its way up to cut them off from dry land. The final clang as the gangplank slid into place brought to mind a brig's door slamming shut, or the closing of an airlock after a space burial had been performed. Barricade's spark ached at the mental image that thought presented. To be this close to going after Katrina, yet stuck where he was... No, there was little chance he would get a real recharge. Not until his charge was back where she belonged.


	25. Haunted

Not really sure if this is early or late... It hasn't been two weeks since my last update, but that one _was_ late and I usually post on the first. So, yeah, I apologize yet again for being late. I've been pretty sick - caught a cold that lasted much longer than they usually do. At least school ends next week for me, I should have more time for writing! Speaking of which, this chapter was written mostly last night with a few hundred words added tonight, so please point out any mistakes you find. Midnight is not the best time for me to write, but it seems to be the only time I can get a little time for myself at the moment...

Thank you for faving, alerting and/or reviewing! That you enjoy my story so much brings me a lot of pleasure and I hope you continue to enjoy it to its end.

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Five

Haunted

"Barricade."

Recharge had been fitful, but the Neutral was still annoyed to be pulled from it so soon after he had collapsed. Sheer willpower had no longer been enough to keep him awake and he wondered what could be important enough that an elderly human would tap on his driver's seat window to wake him up, especially considering who he was. Or what he had been. Soldiers were arguing with the man in the background, but with respectful tones, and were having no apparent affect.

"What is it, human?" he growled, not bothering with decorum as he made his hologram appear beside the man. Whether it startled him or not, the human did not flinch, and Barricade's respect went up a notch. At least this man knew how to stand his ground. Whether he had a good reason to do so or not would be known shortly.

"I am John Keller, Secretary of Defense for the United States of America, and I'm here to inform you that the President has agreed to let you onto the base, with a few minor provisions I am sure you will have no qualms in agreeing to."

"Which would be?"

Secretary Keller breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad the Neutral was actually listening to him, not demanding as he had feared. The soldiers must have been exaggerating how forceful the mech had been earlier. "The Autobot's Chief Medical Officer Ratchet must first ensure your weapons are disabled and you will be blindfolded during the walk to medbay, where you will stay for repairs and refueling until you leave the same way you came. Is that allowable?"

"Will you be blindfolding me in the medbay as well?" Barricade felt Jazz bump against him in warning. Perhaps the remark had been unnecessary, but it made the Neutral feel a little better, if that was even possible given the circumstances.

"Of course not," Keller said, keeping his voice even. "I apologize for the inconvenience that has been caused already. I'll be speaking with our liaison later."

"Ah'd be happy t' help," Jazz offered, his hologram all but skipping around their altmodes to join them. "'Hide probably wouldn't mind a shot at him, either. Not metaphorically speaking."

Barricade disagreed, though he kept his thoughts to himself. It was unlikely the weapons specialist would be pleased by this turn of events.

"I'm afraid you'll be busy helping keep the medbay under guard once Ratchet has patched you up," Keller sighed. "Barricade, you are not to leave that building under any circumstances."

"This liaison is responsible for the guards," Barricade deduced, earning a nod from the human.

"Like I said, I'll speak with him, though I doubt it will do the xenophobe much good. Here's Ratchet now."

The medic was brisk and efficient with his task, showing not a flicker of distaste about the thought of patching up someone he had probably shot at millions of times over the past vorns. Once Barricade had transformed, Ratchet checked his weapons, and, satisfied they were off-lined, switched off the Neutral's optics. Barricade feigned a slight sense of unbalance for the benefit of the watching humans, knowing they probably did not understand the complexity of Cybertronian sensors. He did not rely on his optics to move, it was merely a courtesy gesture, and when Ratchet made no move to touch his other sensor arrays, Barricade wondered if this was the medic's way of showing a little trust, or Prime's orders. Most likely the latter. He doubted any of the other Autobots save Jazz would trust him very far, guardian status or not.

While he was thinking about guardians, Barricade considered Bumblebee. Was the yellow Autobot on base as well, or back in Tranquility with his pet? The walk to the medbay was not a short one, and, without the distraction of vision, offered time to process a few thoughts. Most revolved around Katrina, but Barricade also speculated whether being a guardian was the same for all mechs. Was this how Bumblebee felt when his human was in danger? It made Barricade understand a little better the Autobot's determination to protect Sam at all costs. He even entertained the idea that they might share stories about their charges, then dismissed it for the crazy thought it was. The only Autobots who would be spending time with him were Ratchet, Prime and Jazz, and latter was the one mech who might enjoy it. Ratchet was radiating a cold calmness that no doubt hid his anger at having a former enemy in his own medbay, and though Optimus seemed concerned about Katrina's fate, Barricade doubted even the Prime could find it in his spark to forgive the things the Neutral had done under Megatron's command.

Ratchet shut the door behind Jazz with a solid clang, then indicated a berth for the silver mech with one hand while the other flicked Barricade's optics back on with a few prods in the right places. The medic then turned to the Neutral, one of his infamous wrenches in hand.

"Let's get one thing straight," Ratchet growled, and Barricade dimmed his audio receptors, knowing he deserved the rant coming a thousand times over and hoping the wrench would not be adding to the dents in his armor, though he doubted he would get that wish.

"You are not going to mope around my medbay like a prisoner while I patch you up."

"What?" The half-question, half-gasp escaped Barricade's mouth before he could stop it, and he stared at the medic.

"You walked here with your head hanging like a sparkling who's just been slapped for doing something naughty, and I'm going to set you straight on one thing you've no doubt got completely wrong. There's not one Autobot on this island who is going to take a shot at you for what you've done. As a Neutral and a guardian, you've risked a lot to put the past behind you, and no one will dig it out if you want it to stay buried."

"Nice words, but I doubt Ironhide sees it that way," Barricade matter-of-factly.

"If he wants repairs, he'll see things as Prime and I say they are. I'm not saying the majority will want to buddy up like Jazz, but they'll behave. Unless you don't, in which case you've got about a dozen mechs and a few femmes who'll be more than happy to carve you up from the outside in. But judging from your current state, I doubt you want to make trouble."

"No," Barricade said, reduced to single syllable answers while his processor tried to catch up with the medic's words, unable to believe them true.

"I can see you don't believe me, and that's fine. Just had to get that out there so you could wipe that-" he stopped to search for the proper word.

"-hangdog look off yer face," Jazz suggested, grinning at the glare the Neutral sent his way. "He's right, Barricade. They don't hate ya. Well, Ironhide might, and some of the others might hold a grudge, but they'll come 'round when they see how personable ya can be."

Ratchet chuckled and surreptitiously stepped between the two mechs, as Barricade's look had progressed to near thunderous. "All right, settle down, you two. Jazz, I'll have a look at you first. Barricade, any medical information you might have and be willing to share, send to me."

"Yer lucky," Jazz told Barricade as he prepared to be examined by the medic, who was still holding the wrench in a business-like manner. "An Autobot would be sending a data packet of every scratch they ever had."

"Unless I already had it," Ratchet said, amused.

"Ratchet?"

The medic almost dropped his wrench, freezing in his tracks toward a table covered in medical tools and looking down at his feet. "Mikaela? What are you doing here? I thought I gave you a job to do."

"I'm going to take a break," she replied, shooting a suspicious look in Barricade's direction. "How long will he be here?"

"Who do you mean?" Ratchet asked, knowing full well who the girl meant. "Jazz will be ready for duty shortly. I'm not sure about Barricade. How long will you be gone? I could use the help."

"I don't know," she replied brusquely, and disappeared through a human-sized door cut into full-sized medbay door.

"You know," Barricade remarked, "that door looks a lot like-"

"Don't say it," Jazz warned, eying the wrench the medic was hefting.

Barricade didn't notice the movement and foolishly ignored the other mech's warning. "-a dog door that humans install for their pets."

CLANG! The wrench bounced off Barricade's helm and was caught by the medic's practiced hand, then twirled in silent warning. "I'd keep talk like that inside your processor from now on," Ratchet warned. "Humans are uneasy around us enough as it is."

"Not all of us."

"Sam, what are you doing out of bed?" Ratchet demanded, wondering how much the human had heard. Not the entire conversation, fortunately, since he didn't look offended, just cautious at the sight of his old enemy.

"I heard the commotion and figured someone finally knocked some sense into Galloway, or preferably drugged him and hid the body in a closet so you could get Jazz and Barricade off the ship."

"As you can see, we managed to do that, minus the drugging and closet."

"Not that that isn't a good idea," Barricade muttered, surprised by the grin this earned him from the human.

Sam's cheerful look faded immediately, though, his thoughts turned down a more sober line. "I'm sorry about Katrina, Barricade. Prime's going to do everything he can to help get her back, and I swear I'll help any way possible, too. Poor kid..." He had no need to finish that sentence, Barricade's optics dimmed just considering the possibilities of what Katrina might be going through.

"I just hope she doesn't get the slime treatment I did." Sam shuddered, a haunted look in his eyes. "This creepy crab thing stuck a...I don't know, some gross bug-like creature covered in gel into my mouth and it attached to my brain and-"

"That's enough, Sam," Ratchet said sharply, seeing Barricade stiffen. "He's worried enough already, no need for you to be adding to that."

"Sorry," Sam said in a small voice. "Don't worry, Barricade, there's nothing in her mind they'll want."

"No, Megatron will be more interested in what she can do."

"What is that, exactly?" Sam asked. "She has AllSpark power, right?"

"Yes," Ratchet replied. "Not all of it, though, if you are any indication. Prime is probably pondering the dilemma as we speak."

"What dilemma?" Sam asked, half-smiling. "Me coming back to life, him coming back to life, me seeing the Primes or the fact the AllSpark was capable of playing about in my head until I had a map to an ancient weapon of sun destruction?"

"A solar harvester?" Barricade's optics widened with surprise. "I half-believed Prowl was joking about that."

"Prowl? Joke?" Jazz spent the next few minutes rolling on his berth, laughing at this ridiculous idea.

"Yes, a solar harvester," Ratchet said gravely. "Covertly built by the Fallen on a planet inhabited by primitive lifeforms that nonetheless showed enough intelligence that his brothers gave their very lives to protect the sun that still warms this rather ungrateful planet."

"Can't help it if some people don't understand how awesome you guys are," Sam said, sighing. The sigh turned into a cough and Ratchet swooped down at once to scoop the boy up.

"I told you to stay in bed and rest," the medic scolded, setting him down on the nearest flat surface, which happened to be Barricade's berth. "Stay there for the moment, I'm trying to fix Jazz and don't have time to run around after an idiot human who can't follow a simple order."

"Ratchet!" Barricade and Sam said at the same time, edging away from each other. Neither was very comfortable about being this close.

The medic showed no pity. "Count this as your punishment for disobeying orders."

Though Barricade was tempted to ask what he had done to deserve this, he knew there wasn't much he hadn't done at some point during his time as a Decepticon, so kept his mouth shut. Ratchet had been a politician once, and the Neutral could not quite bring himself to believe the mech's earlier words. Perhaps Prime might forgive him, or at least try to forget the wrongs he'd done, but the other Autobots? Not a chance.

"No," Ratchet suddenly said aloud, aiming a wrench at the medbay door just before it opened. The unusual weapon hit its target of a silver helm with a sharp clang. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, what are you doing here? I am trying to do repair work. If this is the beginning of another prank, you will be in the brig faster than-"

"We're not stupid," Sunstreaker interrupted the medic. "This isn't the time for pranks."

There was something different about the Autobot, and Barricade felt a momentary satisfaction for helping get the twins back together, even if they were probably planning the mother of all pranks for him at that very moment.

"Thank you," Sideswipe told the Neutral, who almost fell off the berth he sat on in surprise. Sam's jaw dropped to the floor. Even Ratchet seemed a little stunned by this sudden turn of events.

"For what?" asked Barricade, his voice perhaps more brusque than necessary as he steeled himself for the joke to come to its conclusion.

"For helping my brother." Sideswipe swung an arm around Sunstreaker's shoulders and turned to Jazz. "Thank you, too."

"Just doin' my job," Jazz replied cheerfully, shrugging.

"Well, thanks, anyway," Sunstreaker muttered.

"I must be dreaming," Ratchet said, running shallow scans over the twins. "Are you two feeling all right?"

"Just great," they replied in unison with the devilish grins he knew all too well.

"Let us know when the rescue team sets out," Sideswipe added. "We're going. Come on, Sunny, we better fix that paint job of yours before it's time to leave."

"You better fix your own," Sunstreaker retorted. "Silver? What were you thinking?"

Jazz played a burst of the Christmas song "Silver and Gold", then ducked a wrench.

"Don't antagonize them, the last thing we need is one of their infamous pranks of revenge," said Ratchet. "Now hold still while I solder this patch."

Sam sighed, watching the door slide shut behind the twins. "I'm sorry about what happened."

Barricade looked down to find the human really did have a glum look on his face, the truth of his words shining in his worried eyes. "It's not your fault," the Neutral replied, scowling. No, it was his fault for not being vigilant enough.

Sam nodded. "I know, but that doesn't make me any less concerned. However, Katrina's a tough kid. I'm sure she'll be all right until we can get there."

"There is no 'we'," Ratchet snapped, pointing a wrench at the human. "You will not be going anywhere until you heal, certainly not on a rescue mission to Primus knows where."

As the human began to argue about his current health status with the stubborn medic, Barricade dimmed his optics and tried to get a little more recharge. Once he was patched up, there would be little time to rest, because he planned on leaving the moment he had what information he needed, with or without a rescue team.


	26. Truth

Well, it still about the middle of the month, so I'm going to say this chapter's on time. I know for sure the next one will be late - my family is going away on Memorial Day weekend and I never get much writing done when I've spent the entire day mowing (push mower, not riding)

Thank you for reading, faving/alerting, and reviewing! Even when things are tense in my house, you really cheer me up. I only hope my writing will continue to live up to your expectations.

A special thanks to Bookworm Gal, who inspired the Wheelie scene! (you'll know what I mean once you read this chapter)

_________corrected as of 7/31/2012  
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Six

Truth

Katrina awoke with a start to find herself in total darkness again. A sharp gasp escaped her mouth as she sat up, eyes searching in vain for a hint of light. Morse beeped in her hand and she spread her fingers, allowing her friend's transformation into his normal spider shape. His blue optics glowed, and the girl relaxed a little, grateful for the small bit of illumination. It almost made the otherwise lack of light bearable, though Katrina doubted she would stay sane for long under these conditions. Closing her eyes did nothing to help, instead it brought all-too-recent memories to her attention, ones that made her remember how it felt to tumble into that strange place which was nowhere and everywhere at once.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked her friend quietly, not hearing any movement in the room save their own.

NO, Morse replied, meaning he did not know, and Katrina stood slowly. It was difficult to maintain her balance when she was unsure of her surroundings. Morse's optics were not bright enough to light the table she stood on, and the girl could not see where the edge was. Forced to move forward an inch at a time, feeling with each step for the drop-off, Katrina held Morse close.

_This is strange_, she thought, after walking quite a few steps without reaching the table's edge. "Morse, can you see where the table ends?"

NO TABLE.

"What?" Katrina's grip tightened a little, causing her friend to beep in protest until she took a breath and loosened her fingers. "Sorry, Morse. What do you mean, there's no table?"

FLOOR.

"We're on the floor?" That didn't make any sense, but her friend nodded in reply, the up and down motion of his optics revealing his movement. "Is anyone around?"

There was a slight pause before he replied. NO.

_Why move me to the floor, then leave?_ Katrina was more than a little concerned by the fact she hadn't woken up in the process. "Did you see them leave?"

RECHARGE. Morse sounded apologetic, and she sighed.

"Don't feel bad, I didn't notice either." Katrina took another hesitant step forward, then stopped. "Can you make your optics any brighter? It's hard to see."

In response the soft glow doubled, the little spider's optics now giving off enough light to resemble a candle, albeit one with blue and non-flickering flame. With this the girl's eyes were able to adjust to their surroundings enough to see shadowy shapes, though color and sharp definitions were lost. Nothing seemed to be moving, but Katrina did not relax. Moving slowly forward the girl searched for a place to hide. If the Decepticons needed her further, they would not find it an easy task, not if she could do anything about it.

A sharp whistle from Morse warned her to dodge to one side when metal flashed from the darkness toward her face. Diving, Katrina attempted to roll to her feet. The movement was thrown off balance by her having only one hand to use – the other clutched Morse tightly, not about to lose him again – and Katrina collapsed on the floor a second before something leapt onto her back, making rough hissing sound she recognized all too well.

"HELP!" the girl screamed, then something jabbed her neck and darkness dragged her down.

* * *

Venting air, Optimus raised his hand to knock, only for the medbay door to slide open before his fist could rap on the metal. Ratchet gestured him in, then shut the door. "No need to knock, you could have sent a message, or told the door to open."

"It was for the humans' benefit," Prime replied, the medic nodding in agreement, no doubt remembering a recent argument about their internal comms. The human scientists had little trouble grasping the concept, but were terrified at the possibilities it opened up. "It's like having email, instant messaging and a phone line, all in your head," was how Epps had eloquently put it, and for some reason this alarmed the humans, who thought it could be a security breach. Even after Ratchet had explained the complexities involving encryption and a system of 'tagging' that prevented other mechs from receiving and reading comms not meant for them, the humans had attempted to wrangle a promise from Optimus that no military-related information would be shared over internal comms. The current compromise made neither party happy, but as long as the Autobots did not state they were comming intel, the humans pretended it didn't happen.

"Makes my processors ache at times, trying to figure out how their minds work," Ratchet grumbled. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in a meeting with Galloway."

"He left, complaining of a headache."

The medic brightened. "Perhaps he picked up a foreign virus during his impromptu vacation in the desert."

Optimus hid his amusement at this comment and the medic's apparent delight. He turned to Barricade, who was currently pacing around the medbay, wearing a track in the floor. "Barricade, how are your wounds?"

"I am fine," the Neutral said, keeping his irritation in check for the time being and managing to maintain a civil tone. "Have you gathered the information I need yet?"

"We currently do not know the location of the Decepticon base," Prime said. "I am sorry. As of yet we have been unable to take a Decepticon prisoner alive."

"Hey, Optimus!" Sam called from his current position on the berth Barricade had vacated several hours ago. Despite Ratchet's protests, the human had somehow kept himself from being evicted, and the Neutral had to admit the boy's tenacity was admirable, considering how much he had been through in the past few days.

Directing a grave nod toward the human, Prime said, "Good morning, Sam. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I have been considering tranquilizer for both of them," Ratchet remarked, busying himself with some tools that needed to be packed away until he required them again. "He's been here all night and barely got any sleep thanks to Barricade pacing about the entire night, muttering to himself."

"I wasn't muttering," the Neutral grumbled. "I was thinking aloud."

A wrench clanged against the mech's shoulder. "Don't talk back to me, I outranked you when you were a soldier and I still do now."

"Could you listen to me for a second?" Sam shouted before Barricade could do more than begin to move into an aggressive stance.

"What is it, Sam?" Optimus asked, moving over and crouching in order to be eye-level with the human.

"We do have a Decepticon prisoner. Well, we did-"

"Where is he?" Barricade growled, freezing in his tracks and turning a dark red glare on the human. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"I didn't even think about him," Sam confessed. "He's pretty easy to forget, we almost left him in the desert. I'm not sure where Mikaela stored him away, but she was taming him before and he's turned Autobot now so-"

"I don't care about his life story," interrupted the Neutral. "I want whatever information he has on the Decepticons. Where is he?"

Sam pulled out his cell phone, raising one finger in the universal sign for wait. Dialing a number, he waited a long moment before someone finally picked up. "Mikaela? Where's Wheelie? Prime needs to speak with him. We're in the medbay. All right, see you." Snapping the phone shut, Sam grinned. "Mikaela's on her way, information in tow." He had barely begun to speak when the medbay door opened and Mikaela walked in, Wheelie trailing behind her like a dog on an invisible leash.

"...was busy, Warrior Goddess," the little mech was whining, though he hushed upon seeing Ratchet and Optimus, his silence lasting a few seconds before he blurted out the question, "What's this all about?"

"I want to know everything you know, right now," Barricade said, walking around the berth to stand directly in front of Wheelie, his head tilted forward in order to see the little mech.

In retrospect, perhaps he should have been a little more cautious of how he approached. The sudden appearance of a red-eyed mech looming over him sent Wheelie diving for the door, the only thing that stopped him from making his escape was the chain that went taut between his neck and Mikaela's clenched fist.

Jerking at the end of his leash, the little mech whimpered, "Please don't let him kill me, Warrior Goddess, don't kill me, I swear I don't know anything, please-"

"Sam," Mikaela said, her voice holding a tight note as she locked eyes with the teen so casually sitting on the same berth Barricade had been leaning against, "what are you doing in here with him?"

"Would you relax? He's on our side, remember?"

"I remember him trying to kill us, and kidnapping Katrina, who is now in the hands of the Decepticons. What if he turned her over himself?"

Optics narrowing, Barricade remained silent, knowing an argument would only provoke the girl further, no matter how much he wanted to protest.

"No," said Prime, "his mere presence here shows more about his change of spark than you could understand, Mikaela. The very fact he requested our assistance and has been patient with us despite your government's attempts to prevent us from aiding him proves that Barricade is no Decepticon."

"He could be a very good actor," the girl said, unconvinced. "His eyes are still red, Optimus."

"Neutrals do not change their optic color unless they have good reason to," Prime replied. "It is a difficult process and as Neutrals seek no confrontations with either side, it rarely matters if they have blue or red optics."

"It also takes a medic to do the alterations, and he hasn't seen one since he left us over a year ago." Ratchet leveled a glare on Barricade. "Self-repair nannites can only work for so long before they need replacement material, and you were injured when you left before. It's a wonder you are still functioning."

"I have gone for much longer without medical attention," the Neutral snapped. "That's not the topic of discussion here, anyway. I need information and I will have it."

"Don't leave me alone with him, he'll kill me!" Wheelie wrapped himself around Mikaela's nearest leg, shaking. "I know that bot, he got experience, please don't leave me here, Warrior Goddess."

"Wasn't planning on it." Mikaela frowned, looking to Optimus for confirmation. "Once he knows whatever Wheelie does, will he leave?"

"If it is enough information to act upon."

"Could you just tell him whatever you know?" Mikaela reached down and stroked Wheelie's head. "I won't let him hurt you, I promise, just tell him everything you think might be useful."

"No, tell me everything," Barricade growled, folding his arms. "I'll decide what is useful and what is not."

"I don't know anything, I'm just a salvage drone."

"You knew what those strange symbols were, the ones I drew," Sam called down. "You recognized the Seekers and showed us where to find them. You must know something. Anything. There's a kid who is going to die if we don't rescue her soon."

The little mech perked up. "A girl? Is she h-" A cuff from Mikaela stopped that question in its tracks. "-er, never mind. How'd a kid end up working for the Decepticons?"

"She was kidnapped." Prime considered how much information the mech should be privy to, then decide it might be best to tell him what they knew. Perhaps it would jog a memory or two. "Do you know how Sam was able to find the Matrix?"

"I'm not stupid. He had a map in his head from the AllSpark shard zapping him," Wheelie said.

"Somehow Katrina has a similar power, though hers is the gift of life we thought lost with the AllSpark."

The little mech cocked his head, digesting this information. "She got zapped, too?"

"It is currently unknown how she gained that power," said Optimus.

Ratchet vented air. "I still think it would be worth it to give some truth serum to Galloway. Or perhaps Simmons. They both know more about her than we do."

"Simmons is on our side," Prime said, "and Galloway is our liaison for the moment. Also, that serum is illegal."

"Not the human's version," Ratchet said with distaste. "I've developed a new serum that's a little more sophisticated."

"What does this have to do with the kid?" Wheelie asked, more confused by the second.

"We believe the human government may have performed experiments on Katrina, but have been unable to track down any hard evidence."

"Because you won't allow anyone to hack into their encrypted databanks," Ratchet grumbled.

"Freedom includes the right to privacy," replied Prime. "They will tell us when they are ready."

During this brief argument, Wheelie had put two and two together to make trouble. "I don't like where I see this going. You say she can bring things to life?"

"Or back from the dead," Barricade said quietly, remembering Frenzy's return.

"Like the Fallen?" Wheelie said, optics almost popping out of their sockets with fear. "Oh, man, I should have stayed with the Decepticons, you guys are going to get slaughtered."

His statement was followed by stunned silence, during which the other three mechs and two humans all shared horrified looks.

Prime shuttered his optics as Ratchet and Barricade both sagged against the nearest berth. "I didn't even consider it a possibility."

"Too horrific an idea for us, but Megatron would do it," Ratchet said, venting air. "We will have to prepare for the worst."

"Katrina wouldn't-" Sam started to say, then fell quiet, shaking his head as he remembered how just a few minutes in Megatron's presence had had him begging for his life only a few days ago.

"I thought you were an Autobot," Mikaela told Wheelie, her frown deepening.

"You've seen what he can do," the little mech protested. "Think Prime can kill him again? He got lucky last time."

"It wasn't luck," Sam retorted, glaring down from his high perch.

"He had help, too, didn't he? That rusting old Seeker's not here to lend him parts again. I'm telling you, I'm out of here."

Barricade reached down and plucked the leash from Mikaela's hand, ignoring the human's protest. Raising the little mech until they were optic-to-optic, the Neutral paid no attention to Wheelie's melodramatic choking gasps. "You will tell me what you know," he said, enunciating each word carefully. "Katrina is my charge. If she dies and you could have prevented it, I will send you to the Pit in such small pieces not even your creators could recognize you."

Wheelie pawed at the chain wrapped around his throat. "All right, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just put me down, you're going to break my neck."

"Not likely," said the Neutral, unmoved by the little mech's distressed appearance. "You salvage drones are tougher than you look. Tell me what you know."

"Put him down," Prime said, his voice firm. "You are not a Decepticon, Barricade, do not act like one."

Barricade's cooling fans kicked in, and though he did not feeling like apologizing for his abrupt act, he gave Optimus a short nod before setting the little mech down, acknowledging the rebuke as appropriate. "If you are concerned about retribution-"

"The Decepticons will kill me if they ever get hold of me again," Wheelie said fearfully, "but if I told you anything they'd torture me first, and I've seen what Scalpel can do."

"How about if Mikaela torched your other eye?" Sam offered with a little too much enthusiasm, earning him a dark look from his girlfriend.

"I swear on the Matrix the Decepticons will not harm you," Prime said, crouching in order to be closer to Wheelie's level. "You will be safe as long as you remain on this base."

"Death or eternal prison," moaned the little mech. "I don't know what's worse. Besides, I'm staying with Warrior Goddess, right?" He scampered over and wrapped his arms around Mikaela's leg. "Right, Warrior Goddess? I can stay with you."

"We'll see," she said, with an unreadable expression on her face that worried Sam. He resolved to speak with her as soon as he could – surely, she couldn't be considering the idea of taking the mech home.

"Would you at least tell us where the Nemesis is located?" Optimus requested. "We have rudimentary knowledge of the ship's outlay and should be able to launch a rescue mission, if we knew where to begin looking."

"You swear you'll stop asking me about it if I tell you where it is?" Wheelie pleaded.

"Yes," said Prime promptly, giving Barricade a sharp look when the Neutral did not immediately agree.

"Very well," Barricade said at last, spark aching at the thought of losing even a small source of information, but he could tell this was the best he was going to get from the cowardly mech.

"They've been hiding right in plain sight." Wheelie pointed at the nearest window. "You can't see it right now, but your moon is hiding their ship."

"They're on the moon?" Sam groaned. "How do we get out there?"

"Beyond the moon," Ratchet guessed when the little mech shook his head at the human. "Moving in synchronized rotation, so the moon is always between them and us. That's almost too smart a move for a Decepticon."

"It does explain why we haven't found them yet," Optimus sighed. "This will be difficult, Barricade. We did not come down with the Ark, and even if we had it on hand, it would be at least an orn before the ship was ready to take off."

"Space shuttle?" Sam suggested.

Ratchet shook his head. "Your primitive means of space travel would be detected by the Decepticons long before we left Earth's atmosphere."

"May we leave?" Mikaela asked, gesturing from herself to Wheelie, who had returned to clinging to her leg like a drowning person to a life preserver.

"I'll come with you," Sam offered, moving to the edge of the berth. He was surprised when Barricade offered his own hand for transportation before either Autobot could move, but accepted after a slight hesitation, ignoring Mikaela's barely concealed panic at him being so close to the Neutral. "Thanks," the teen called over his shoulder, nudging Mikaela toward the door before she could protest. "I'll see you guys later."

"Don't overexert yourself," Ratchet warned. "Otherwise you'll be spending two months in bed instead of two weeks."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother." He shut the human-sized door behind him and all three mechs followed his and Mikaela's joint path down the corridor until the humans exceeded the range of their sensors.

"Prime-" Ratchet started, but Barricade jumped ahead of him.

"I know this will be close to impossible," the Neutral said, "but I still want to try any option we have."

The medic frowned. "We aren't made for space travel. Without a ship, we have no way of reaching the Decepticons, and it is unlikely they will bring such a valuable prisoner to Earth."

Barricade shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, we might have a ship available, but you won't like it."

"The ship itself or the process by which you think we can procure it?" Ratchet inquired.

"Both. I know the location of a bounty hunter. Rather, I knew the area he was in a little over a year ago, but I can guess where he would be if he isn't still there."

"What is a bounty hunter doing on Earth?" Prime asked. "There aren't enough Autobots here to make his presence worthwhile."

"He had a disagreement with some Decepticons and they damaged his ship. Last I knew, he hadn't managed to repair it yet."

"Perfect," Ratchet said. "We should be capable of completing the repairs, and Ironhide can exercise his cannons a bit."

Prime nodded, slightly amused by the medic's last comment. "I will let Ironhide know he will be needed for this mission. Barricade, would we know this bounty hunter?"

"Most likely," Barricade said. "His name is Lockdown."

"Good," Ratchet said grimly. "I have no qualms about stealing his ship. Optimus?"

Prime shook his head. "In this case, I would call it liberating, not stealing." After a slight pause, he added, "You will have to excuse me, I am needed elsewhere. Ironhide is on his way to discuss this further with you, Barricade. We will leave sometime tomorrow."

"Why not immediately?" Now that they had a destination and a possible means of transport, Barricade could not help worrying that Lockdown might decide to leave Earth, if he hadn't already. They didn't have time to waste.

"Because you need to rest and let your nannites finish repairing your chassis," Ratchet said in a firm voice that would allow no argument. "And getting permission for a mission will take Optimus all night, and probably most of the morning."

Humans and their foolish power games. Barricade couldn't comprehend how the Autobots managed to live like this, hindered at every turn by the very species they were trying to help protect. He did understand, though, that he didn't have a choice in that matter if he wanted the continued help of the Autobots, and without their firepower it was doubtful he would be able to rescue Katrina. "Very well," the Neutral said, slumping a little against the berth. He was surprised when Prime laid a friendly hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off at once. Sympathy was not something he deserved from these mechs, he would be content with their assistance in saving his charge.

Optimus showed no sign of disappointment that the other mech would not accept the comfort he obviously needed. "We will leave as soon as we can." With a short nod to each mech, Prime turned and walked out, leaving his medic to deal with their troubled guest.


	27. Hunter's Season

So...I don't blame you if you want to sic Megatron on me. Or if you want to borrow his fusion cannon and do the job yourself. I'm afraid there's no single excuse for my absence, at least none that would seem large enough to explain an entire _month_ of no updates. The top ones are as follows:

1) we have no internet at our cottage, so every time I have to look something up I don't already have on file, I have to wait until I go to the library (nothing like a perfectionist side to kill one's muse until you find the information you need)

2) Writing Lockdown has proved quite difficult, given that I haven't seen TFA since last summer and don't remember his character very well. Hopefully I haven't completely botched it...

3) Calculus. Another big killer of my muse is math, and Mom is force-feeding me an entire course on Calculus this month. Ugh.

4) Writer's block, writer's block, writer's block. Did I mention the writer's block? I spent the month of July trying to work on this chapter and got maybe two hundred words written. Then August arrived and something clicked...BOOM! I finished this chapter and the next in about a week.

With any luck I will have a chance to polish up Chapter Twenty Eight and post it before reporting in to college on the 28th. If not, don't expect an update until sometime after September 5th, because I'm going on a weeklong trip with _no electronics_. I hate cellphones and while I do use an MP3 player occasionally I can survive without it, but no laptop for ease of writing? I (and my wrists) already feel like dying...

Speaking of which, I should let you get on to the story now. I have one last thing to say, though...

THANK YOU for reviewing, reading, faving and/or alerting. I love hearing what you think, be it criticism or praise. Or just a prod to continue.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__________(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

During my editing of this chapter and the following one, I discovered a chronological glitch in the order of scenes, so corrected that. Unfortunately, that made this chapter much longer than original and shortened the other a bit, but as the confusion should be cleared up now, I think that it's a small price to pay.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Seven

Hunter's Season

With little else to do but wait until Optimus was given the green light, as the humans put it, Barricade spent a few breems running through all the data he had on Lockdown. There was not much; the bounty hunter was a secretive mech that rarely had anything to do with other Cybertronians unless it was settling a deal or completing a trade. What information he did have all pointed to the same conclusion – this was not a mech anyone would seek out unless they were insane or had no other choice. The Neutral wasn't entirely sure which category he fit into.

"How long have you known Lockdown was on Earth?" Ratchet asked, breaking the other mech's cycle of thoughts.

It took Barricade a moment to reply. "About two years, though when I left the Decepticons I lost contact with those who knew where he was located. As I stated before, it is possible he moved from his current location."

The medic shook his head. "Not with a damaged ship, we would have noticed. The human government has given us limited access to their satellites, just enough to keep an eye out for large movements such as a ship."

"Even a cloaked one?" Barricade asked, doubt obvious in his tone. "A bounty hunter's ship is not in the same class as one piloted by drones for scouting. He has highly advanced cloaking technology onboard and uses it to his full advantage."

"You sound like you have had some experience with looking for it," Ratchet said, searching for information, which Barricade parted with after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, I was sent to track him down at one point after he double-crossed our current leader at the time."

"Starscream, I presume?" the medic guessed, knowing the Neutral would have used Megatron's name had it been the other mech.

"Yes. I didn't try too hard, since my loyalty was still to Megatron at the time and Lockdown's double-crossing was in his favor." Sort of. Lockdown had attempted to sell the same merchandise to two different mechs, and Starscream's competitor had outbid the Seeker without his knowledge, so Lockdown had attempted to substitute an inferior version of the item – which had been a new model of null gun, if Barricade remembered correctly. The Seeker had not be pleased, and Barricade spent an uncomfortable orn searching nearby planets for the bounty hunter, always staying one step behind Lockdown, until Megatron returned and called him back for a more urgent mission, one that eventually led him to the little planet called Earth that had become so crucial in this never-ending war. How ironic that his chase had forced Lockdown to hide upon the very same planet so his ship, damaged in the stress of constantly running from one planet to the next, could be repaired.

Ratchet waved a hand in front of Barricade's optics, the movement drawing the Neutral from his thoughts. "I asked you a question," the medic said. "How many times has Katrina used the AllSpark's power since you left us?"

"Except for healing Sunstreaker, not at all," Barricade replied. "I wouldn't let her."

"Good." Ratchet sounded pleased, though his face bore a dark look that concerned the Neutral. "I don't have good news regarding her condition."

Barricade's spark skipped a beat."Excuse me?"

Venting air, the medic turned and began neatening a tray of tools. "Still, if she has limited her use of the power, then perhaps it's not too late."

"Too late for what?" demanded the Neutral, walking around the berth so he could look the other mech in the optics. "Tell me what's wrong with my charge at once, medic, or I'll-"

"Barricade," Ratchet said icily, "you are not a Decepticon. Stop acting like one. This is your last warning, understand?"

Clenching his fists, Barricade shuttered his optics for a second, reordering his thought processes. It would do no good to anger the medic, Ratchet could do nothing but share his knowledge and it had been the Neutral's choice to have no contact with the Autobots. He had only himself to blame for not knowing there was a problem with Katrina. "Forgive me," he said at last. "Would you please explain what the issue is?" The last remnants of his Decepticon pride, not yet wiped from his systems, protested against being polite to his former enemy, but Katrina's safety came first.

"That's better," Ratchet said. "I've been monitoring your charge through Jazz since-"

"He knew?" Barricade promised himself he would kill the saboteur the next time he saw him.

"Before you start planning his demise, perhaps you should know it was under my orders that you were not to learn of this situation until I had definite proof something was wrong."

"Why?" snapped Barricade. "As her guardian, I should have been the first to know."

"Jazz is also her guardian," Ratchet reminded him. "But she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with us, and if you had been in the know and let something slip, what would have happened?"

Considering the medic's words, Barricade slowly nodded. "I see your point. In her eyes, I would be going behind her back about something that involved her. Even if it was for her own good, Katrina would not forgive me easily."

"And I wish I knew why," Ratchet said, half to himself.

The Neutral scowled. "Ask the humans."

"Prime has tried, as have I, without any success," said the medic, shaking his head. "Whatever they did to your charge, their government does not want it public knowledge."

* * *

Mikaela scooped up Wheelie, avoiding Sam's eyes. "We need to talk."

"Sure we need to talk," he said, throwing his hands in the air. The sharp movement tugged on the bandages around his chest and he grimaced, lowering his arms carefully before quickening his step to stay in-step with his girlfriend. "Are you seriously considering taking _him_-" he gave the ex-Decepticon a pointed look "-home?"

"Why not? You have Bee, and Wheelie's former alliance can't be bothering you." Mikaela shot a glare over her shoulder, in the direction of the medbay.

"What do you have against Barricade?" Sam asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. His worry grew when she simply shrugged him off and walked faster, until he had to push his aching leg muscles into an almost-run in order to keep up. "He's a Neutral now, and he's been looking after Katrina since she left my house." He caught the brief scowl that passed across his girlfriend's face, almost too fast to be noticed, and frowned. "It's not just Barricade, is it?"

"I-she-"

"Katrina?" Sam gasped, his voice incredulous. "What do you have against her? She's just a kid, Mikaela, and who knows what the Decepticons are doing to her right now..."

"I know, and I'm sorry she's being put through all that, because I saw what they did to you, remember?" Mikaela's eyes teared up. "I know you're worried for her, so am I, but I don't want you running off to save her when everyone else already is. If they got their hands on you again, I don't know what I'd do."

"It's going to be fine," he promised, grabbing her shoulders in order to make her meet his eyes. "Please, Mikaela, I have to go if they'll let me."

"Which they won't, you being the Boy and all," Wheelie chuckled. "Don't know why you're so concerned, Warrior Goddess, they won't let him tag along."

Ignoring the little bot with practiced ease, Mikaela demanded, "But why do you want to go? I'm as worried as you are, but I know that if I went, I'd get in the way, just like you would."

"Would not," Sam muttered, shaking his head. "That's not the point, though."

"Then what is, Sam?" Mikaela would have thrown up her hands if they weren't currently full of living metal. "What more do you have to prove? You've already come back from the dead once, isn't that enough? I don't, I _can't_ lose you again."

Sam sighed, unsure how to answer that ultimatum, and his hesitation gave Mikaela the chance she needed to flee in the direction of her quarters, leaving him standing in the corridor, confused and more than a little concerned. Mikaela was overreacting, and he wasn't sure how to handle the tense situation without making it worse. He half-wished he could get some advice, but Miles hadn't spoken to him since graduation and Leo knew even less about girls. Their input would probably be worthless. Nor would his parents be much help.

Sighing again, Sam decided to leave Mikaela to cool down for the moment and get a little more exercise before someone came after him. Ratchet still didn't want him moving around a lot, and he was going to go insane if he had to lie still for hours on end much longer.

Fortune favored him for once, and Sam found a door leading outside, where he got his first breath of fresh air since the disaster with the ship. He still couldn't believe what Galloway had done, and wished, not for the first time, that the guy was still lost in the Egyptian desert.

A burst of the well-known song "It's a Small World" told Sam of Bumblebee's approach before he even noticed the mech's nearly silent footsteps as the scout rounded the corner of the building, heading toward the human.

"Hey, Bee," Sam said, glad to see his guardian looking well. "How are you doing?"

"Well enough...missing you...doctor's orders."

The jumble of sound clips told Sam everything in a few short words, and he rolled his eyes. "Ratchet wouldn't let you into medbay because I needed to rest, huh?"

"That is correct." Bumblebee's antennae drooped, and he replayed Sam's question from before. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Sam replied. "Dying of boredom in that hospital bed, but otherwise I'm okay. You on the rescue team?"

Bumblebee nodded, then frowned and cobbled a few clips together to warn, "You stay here...doctor's orders...grounded for life." The last snip of sound bore a startling resemblance to Mrs. Witwicky's voice, and Sam was reminded that he hadn't seen his parents since the day before, and then only briefly.

"Any idea where Mom and Dad are?" he asked.

"Civilians' quarters, sir," came the reply in a soldier's voice, not one Sam recognized.

Deciding now would not be a good time to visit, not if he wanted to enjoy a few more minutes of freedom, Sam gestured vaguely and said, "Well, I'm going for a quick walk. Got anything urgent to do or would you like to come along?"

In response, Bumblebee transformed and opened the driver's door.

"Not now," Sam said, apologetic but firm. "I've been lying down and sitting down for ages. Got to get some blood moving."

A sharp rev of the mech's engine told Sam exactly what he thought of that idea, and Sam patted the car's hood. "Later, okay? Maybe we can take Mikaela for a spin." He sighed, remembering their near-argument. "Or not."

"Problem?" The single word crackled from the car speakers in Bumblebee's own, broken voice.

"I don't know. I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"You can...always...tell me everything."

"Thanks, Bee."

* * *

"CMO Ratchet, if you continue to request access to specific files, I may have to take out a restraining order or the similar," Galloway snarled into his phone.

Ratchet would have liked to say he wanted to do the same to the liaison, but he held the retort back with difficulty and simply said, "I understand your reluctance to grant me such a favor, Liaison Galloway, but if it becomes necessary to have the information for the protection of a patient, I will do everything in my power to obtain it."

"Katrina Culman is an American citizen, not under your jurisdiction."

"On the contrary, she is the chosen charge of a Cybertronian, who, as guardian, has more claim-" Ratchet grimaced, hating the word that made it sound as though the girl was an object, but knowing he needed to tread carefully with the liaison, using a language Galloway would understand "-than your government does, and I know for certain the child has no immediate family."

"There you would be wrong," Galloway responded, his words casual enough to set off alarm bells in Ratchet's processor. "Any records of her are restricted, as you well know, but I have clearance and _I_ know for certain her remaining family is not all that far away."

"But are they in any position to protect her?" Ratchet replied, shuttering his optics as he searched in vain for suitable argument. "The Decepticons will continue to pursue the girl as long as she lives, and an ordinary human family would be helpless to stop them."

"We plan to move her to a safe facility as soon as she returns, and that's the _President's_ final word on the matter," Galloway said firmly, then hung up before Ratchet could add anything else.

Like cursing the liaison a thousand ways to the Pit. Shaking his head, Ratchet left his office to check on Barricade, who had stopped pacing around the medbay a few minutes ago. The medic found the Neutral standing stiffly behind an examination table, which he kept between himself and Ironhide, who had apparently just arrived.

"Where have you been?" Ratchet asked upon seeing his friend. "Optimus said he asked you to come over here, but that was half a joor ago."

"I was helping Prime deal with some trouble," Ironhide replied, cannons whirring briefly. "Just finished talking with that liaison about ten minutes ago. He finally agreed to let us go on one condition-"

"The humans get Katrina when we return with her," Ratchet finished, venting air. "No need to look so surprised. I just completed a conversation with him, too. Well, he finished speaking with me, anyway. I still have some questions."

"Like how he plans on getting Katrina away from me," Barricade snarled, eyes glowing a dangerous crimson. "If we can leave now-"

"My team lands tomorrow morning, 0400," Ironhide insisted, halting the Neutral's movement toward the medbay door. "I have orders to escort you to the brig once you have given me the information we need to find Lockdown. Liaison's orders," he added when the other mech began to protest.

"I almost wish I were still a Decepticon," Barricade growled. "I'd fry that fragger right where he stands."

"Don't think I haven't been tempted," the weapons specialist muttered, then gestured toward the door. "Well, come on, I can't stand here all day. Prime needs help getting the humans organized."

Surprised, the Neutral barely noticed himself following the order and walking toward the door. "You aren't taking humans with you after Lockdown?"

"NEST involves humans and Autobots working together, so, yes we are if we want to use the available resources," Ironhide replied. "You might be surprised by how well they can fight creatures our size, though. Humans make up with courage what they lack in size."

"Glad to hear it," called a voice from the hall's floor, and Barricade glanced down belatedly to find a human not five yards from his feet. He tried not to imagine what Ironhide would have done had he accidentally stepped on the human, instead searching his processor for the man's name.

"This is Major William Lennox," said the weapons specialist, and Barricade suddenly remembered the man from the recent fatal plane ride.

"We have met," he said, giving the human a short nod of acknowledgement, feeling bad about not recognizing the man immediately. Still, it would help if all the human soldiers didn't have identical uniforms and haircuts. "Why are you here, Major?"

"I'm running the NEST team alongside Ironhide for the rescue mission, the first half, anyway. If you have any information we could use, better hand it over. It'll make our job easier and the chance of success a bit higher."

Barricade gave a short nod, unsure how to respond. The human's face was unreadable, but softened a little when the mech said nothing.

"Listen, I've got a kid back home, and I'm not entirely sure how this guardian thing works, but I know Ironhide would lay down his life for myself or my family, and I bet you'd do the same for this girl, right?"

The answer sprang from his mouth almost before it finished forming in his thoughts. "Without hesitation."

"Well, I'd do the same for Ironhide, and if you've got someone you want to protect and are willing to go that far, then I'm on your side. Ironhide, I'll meet you by the plane in half an hour." Turning smartly on his heel, the major headed back the way he'd come, leaving a stunned Barricade who wasn't entirely sure what he had just heard.

"Come on," Ironhide said gruffly, motioning down the hall. "I've got a bounty hunter to hunt and I can't leave until you've been secured."

Reminding himself that this was the only way he could help Katrina, Barricade followed the weapons specialist, compiling a packet of data as he did so. When he had prepared it, he alerted Ironhide to its transmission, then sent it on a private frequency. That mission complete, he began to ready himself for spending time in the brig. Voluntary or not, the mech doubted he would enjoy his stay.

* * *

Ironhide was half-surprised Barricade had not pressed the matter when told he would have to be brigged for a while. The information he had passed to the weapons specialist had been sparse, but would give NEST the edge they needed to find Lockdown, provided he had not moved since Barricade's last contact with the bounty hunter. It was a good possibility, but also a risk they were willing to take. Ironhide, on first hearing of the girl's capture, had felt only the concern he would spare any civilian of either race. Then Prime had reminded him that while the girl did possess the AllSpark's powers of revival, she was still only a youngling of her race, barely more than a sparkling. That had made him imagine Annabelle in the same position. Will's little girl had awed Ironhide when he first saw her, so tiny yet full of life. Now she was beginning to walk and could speak understandably most of the time, but she was a sparkling and the thought of her at the Cons' mercy made the weapons specialist furious. He could understand a little of what the Neutral felt.

Cannons whirring a little, revealing his internal thoughts, Ironhide paid little attention to the quiet edging away of any nearby humans. Barricade's movement, on the other hand, was quite obvious. The Neutral moved to the side a bit more with each step, putting some distance between them. This, however, drew attention from the soldiers to Barricade, and Ironhide soon noticed the dark looks being sent toward the red-eyed mech.

A sharp vent of air from the weapons specialist sent all the men scurrying. Ironhide placed a hand on Barricade's shoulder, ignoring the mech's flinch. "They're trained to shoot at red optics. Don't worry about them. Some even look at _me_ that way."

"I wonder why," Barricade muttered.

Ironhide chuckled. "I might spill energon with the best of them but the difference between me and the Cons is simple – they take joy in killing, I kill knowing that their deaths mean more innocents will live."

* * *

Sitting in the brig, there wasn't much for Barricade to do except think, which he had been doing far too much of since his charge had been taken. Under his current calm façade, the mech seethed with anger toward the humans and their foolishness. He wanted to be out there, finding Lockdown with Ironhide, joining the rescue team, smashing through the Nemesis and any Decepticon that got in his way until he found Katrina. Instead, thanks to one small human, Barricade was stuck in his current position.

His melancholy thoughts were interrupted by a small commotion from the brig's entrance. Without getting up Barricade used sensors to discover Prowl was coming in, the twins in tow. So their love of pranks had gotten the better of them after all.

"You will spend a joor in here, considering the consequences of your actions," Prowl was saying as he stalked down the short corridor to the other brig cell, directly across from Barricade's. The tactical officer did not spare him a glance, but that was unsurprising. Prowl had other things on his processors, like dealing with incorrigible mechs like the twins.

Prowl continued his scolding as he ushered Sunstreaker and Sideswipe into the cell. "Once a joor has passed, someone will escort you directly to wherever Galloway is currently at, and you will make a formal apology. Am I clear?"

"Yes," they chorused, amusement tainting their attempt at seriousness.

The tactical officer locked the cell door, turned on his heel, and marched out. No sooner had the entrance door shut behind him than the twins collapsed in laughter, and Barricade gathered the gist of the story from the scattered fragments of conversation that punctuated their mirth.

"Screamed like a girl..." Sideswipe cracked up, unable to speak.

Sunstreaker managed to gasp out, "glue worked wonders..."

"Sparkles were perfect..."

As they continued reiterating small details, Barricade pieced the prank together. Apparently it had been a classic trick, a bucket of glue rigged above Galloway's office door. The unusual addition had been another bucket triggered to fall by a sharp noise – in this case, the liaison's scream. The second bucket had contained a mixture of dry ingredients: gummy worms from the mess hall's vending machines, plastic spiders left over from last Halloween, pink sparkles 'borrowed' from Lennox's little girl...the list went on. Galloway had been coated in a sticky mass.

"You have terrible timing," Barricade said, when they had finally quieted enough for his voice to be heard.

Suddenly remembering that they weren't alone, the two mechs looked up and grinned at him. Caught off guard, he stared, unsure how to respond to their reaction.

"Perfect timing, actually, because no one will miss us for about six hours, which is how long it will take us to reach America and find Lockdown," said Sideswipe, smirking.

Sunstreaker nodded and walked over to the door, giving it a slight push. To Barricade's surprise, it swung open easily.

"Didn't Prowl lock that?"

"Officially, yes. Off the record, he's concerned for the kid, too," Sideswipe replied, bounding out of the cell and jabbing the button that would release Barricade's cell door. "Let's move it. If we don't get on the plane before Ironhide does, he'll catch us."

Barricade didn't move. "When they find out-"

"They'll brig us again," Sideswipe said, shrugging. "It won't kill us. Hurry up, would you?"

Still in shock at this sudden change of events, Barricade slowly walked out of his cell. "How am I supposed to get to the plane?"

"No Autobots near the plane right now, and humans can be fooled by holograms," Sideswipe replied. "You can produce a large hologram, right?"

Barricade was impressed by how well they had thought this out, with one exception. "Who am I impersonating?"

"Ironhide," said Sunstreaker. "Or Prowl, or Optimus if you like. Doesn't matter. One of us will leave the plane in the same disguise after a little bit, then come back as ourselves. The humans won't notice."

That part made Barricade a little worried – humans could be quite observant when they felt like it – but the alternative was returning to the brig cell and waiting until the rescue team returned from the Nemesis. Without a backward glance he headed for the door and flicked on his hologram projector, choosing Ironhide to mimic. In his current mood, he wouldn't have minded having two huge cannons to wave around. Perhaps the human liaison would not have given him so much trouble. On the other hand, maybe it would have made things worse. Either way, Barricade still felt more than a flicker of satisfaction as his imagination painted a clear picture of the twins' prank.

"Good job," he told them, without need to elaborate. They understood, and shared a grin before hastening him toward the waiting plane.


	28. Easier to Run

Guess who finally makes an appearance in this chapter? Sorry, not saying here, you'll have to read to find out...let's just say I've been neglecting this character for a few chapters.

I _will_ say that this is the first on-time update I've made in a while. September will be a little fuzzy with updating as I'll be settling into college, but by October I should be back on track...unless writer's block looms its ugly head again.

As always, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, faving, alerting and reviewing!

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__________(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Eight

Easier to Run

Lockdown slammed a fist against the nearest wall and cursed at the malfunctioning engine in front of him. "I should have scrapped you a long time ago," the mech grumbled, tossing yet another destroyed part into the steadily growing heap behind him. More than fifty orns had been wasted – in his opinion – repairing his ship, and there were still bad sections of hull needing replacement, damaged instruments in the pilot room, and the ancient engine really should be replaced rather than repaired yet again, but finding the parts he needed was hard enough. The Decepticons would supply him in exchange for his swearing himself to their cause, or for some of the precious energon he had stored in his hold. The latter he traded in sparse quantities, making it sound as though he did not have much to spare when in fact he knew they would trade one of their better ships for the energon harvester he had in the aforementioned hold. However, the little machine was worth more than a fleet of ships this far from Cybertron, and Lockdown didn't want a new ship, anyway. This ship had been his home long enough that he knew every nut, bolt and circuit of it, from the few remaining original parts to the many alterations he had made since obtaining the ship back when he was just beginning to turn bounty hunting from a job into a lifestyle.

No, he would repair this ship somehow, even if it took him another fifty orns. At least his time spent here on Earth was not completely being wasted. Though inferior in many ways, some Earth technology could almost pass as mediocre Cybertronian, and Lockdown had discovered that for the right price, humans would ship anything, anywhere. Sure, tracking down humans was a time-consuming task, there being so many to search among, but Lockdown soon learned bounty hunting for another race could be almost as rewarding as hunting down mechs, and the bank account he had opened had enough money to buy a dozen of every part he could get from the otherwise useless humans.

However, this vibrant world was growing dull to his optics, and Lockdown longed for the day when he could return to his true passion, hunting down criminals, deserters and traitors across the universe. There were so many stars yet to see, planets to visit, and bounties to collect. A smile spread across the mech's face as he returned to his work. Oh, yes, he would rejoice when this task was finally complete.

On the other end of the ship, in the pilot room, a small red light began to blink, the alarm silent due to a malfunction in the controlling circuit board. No inscription indicated the light's meaning, but Lockdown, had he seen it, would have known exactly what it meant.

Cybertronians were approaching.

* * *

Ironhide's engine growled with frustration as the human NEST members exited yet another rundown warehouse, shaking their heads. His scanners were working overtime, searching the surrounding area with the finest degree he could manage, but nothing seemed out of place. There weren't even many humans hanging around, though that was probably due to the presence of several military jeeps spread out behind the large black Topkick.

"The ship must be cloaked," the mech grumbled over his radio to Major Lennox, who nodded in agreement.

"Our scans aren't even picking up heat signatures," the man said. "Are you sure these are the correct coordinates?"

Pausing just long enough to make it clear he thought the question too stupid to be voiced, Ironhide replied, "Yes, though Barricade did make it clear that Lockdown may have moved since then. It has been a while since he had contact, after all."

"Mm," Lennox grunted, drumming fingers on the steering wheel, an annoying habit that Ironhide only tolerated because the human was a good friend of his as well as a fellow soldier. "Move to the next site," the major finally ordered, and the team did, though their original enthusiasm had dwindled. At least they hadn't been ambushed by Decepticons, Lennox told himself, but even he was beginning to itch for some action. Unlike Ironhide, he had needed no prompting from Prime to imagine Annabelle in Katrina's situation, and the thought chilled his blood at first, then sent it racing through his veins, hot with rage. The Decepticons had no right to take human hostages, and if he had anything to do with it, Katrina would be home safe sooner rather than later.

In the mean time, Lennox planned on turning every Decepticon they came across into something smaller than scrap metal, and he had no doubt his Autobot companion had the same idea. "Soon," the major said, giving the dashboard an affectionate pat. "We'll get him."

Ironhide all but snarled in reply, "_I_ will get him. Just make sure we don't damage the ship any worse than it is."

Nodding, Lennox did not take offense at his friend's tone. He had gathered from the reactions of various mechs when told of the retrieval team's target that this bounty hunter was among the worst of his breed, and well-known for his deeds. Whatever this Con's past involved, the major was certain it carried enough weight to send the mech straight to the Pit, if anything was left after Ironhide finished.

* * *

Consciousness hurt, but Katrina forced herself awake anyway. Judging by the headache she had, someone had knocked her out, and her memory searched for a plausible cause. An ambush in the dark room, she remembered, and before the girl could make a move to get up, a quiet snicker from behind answered the question of who. She recalled hearing the same rough hissing sound when blacking out before. It was no more pleasant now.

He had her, and there would be no escaping this time. Katrina lay frozen in place, not by fear – though her blood felt chilled by that very emotion – but by hopelessness. Any moment those sharp claws would cut through her shirt and skin, and Katrina could do nothing to stop him. For a brief moment she even considered the unthinkable, completing with this mech what she had almost accomplished with Skywarp, but the idea still made her feel sick, and when her self-preservation instincts called to that power for help, it did not respond. Considering what had happened last time, the girl was not sorry for this, though it sent the probability of her survival plummeting.

No, that was wrong. Her death had been imminent since she arrived, and as there had been no rescue attempt so far, Katrina could only assume something had prevented the Autobots coming for her. After all, they had bigger problems to worry about than a girl who had refused to have anything to do with them in the first place. She was just a single human, nothing compared to the entire planet they were trying to protect. Barricade would try to reach her, if possible, but there was little he could do. Besides, if the creature currently perched on her back had anything to do with it, she would soon be beyond rescue.

Katrina wondered why the mech hadn't moved yet. Surely Scalpel did not plan on wasting his best chance of doing what he wanted to her by watching her squirm for a while first. Or perhaps he preferred his victims that way, petrifying themselves with their own imagination before he showed them how much worse reality could be.

_Help!_ The girl cried out silently, knowing to voice her plea would only please her tormentor. No one who could hear her would come to help. The thought should have brought tears to her eyes, of frustration at her predicament, if nothing else. But there were no tears left to cry, just a hollow emptiness spreading from the pit of her stomach, erasing her cares until Katrina wished the mech would simply end it now, so she could finally get some rest.

A slight movement told her without looking that Scalpel was shifting his position in preparation. Her eyes slid shut, though she had been unable to see anything before – Morse had stopped glowing when they hit the ground. Her friend had not twitched a leg, either, and Katrina wondered if he had been injured. It would almost be merciful if he _had _died, but the little mech had been cushioned in her hand, and should be fine. _Until Scalpel gets to him,_ Katrina told herself, and willed her clenched fingers to open and release her friend, who might still have a chance to escape. Morse was small enough to hide where even Scalpel could not reach, maybe a rescue team would arrive in time to save him at least. However, her muscles would not relax. _I'm sorry, Morse,_ the girl thought, body tensing as she waited for Scalpel to begin. _I'm-_her apology, all her thoughts were halted when the first claw dug into her back.

She had expected it to hurt, but not so much at once, and Katrina cried out, pain and surprise mingling to create a sharp sound that struck at the core of Morse's spark. Inside the girl's tight grip the little mech began to struggle, hating himself for the blood he drew as he pushed against her fingers until Katrina released him in a short spasm that tossed Morse a few feet away, either by accident or on purpose, the mech wasn't sure. At the moment, he didn't care if his friend had meant the throw as a hint to run and hide, Morse was not about to leave her to Scalpel's torture.

There was no way the little mech could stop him, though, Scalpel being older and no doubt wiser in battle than Morse. His friend's sobs of anguish vibrated through the spider's body while he scurried away, sensors stretched to their limit, searching for any hint of a nearby spark, someone who might help him, not for being compassionate – that would could not be used in reference to any Decepticon Morse knew – but because their leader Megatron would be displeased if the human perished. Scalpel didn't seem to care about that, which only supported Morse's suspicion that the small Decepticon was more than a little psychotic.

He couldn't consider the mad scientist's motives, though, there wasn't time. Help was needed before it became too late, and Morse did not dare imagine the worst case scenario. Spark aching, the little mech dashed across the room, hardly daring to believe his luck when an unexpected spark signature greeted his scans. Frenzy was nearby, just behind a sliding door. Morse jabbed a leg at the wall, but his foot slid off without even scratching the metal. His body's chemistry had been altered by the AllSpark's power, but even then the alloy he was made of was not as strong as Cybertronian material. Unless he found a way to climb the wall, he could not open the door. Transmitting might call the attention of Scalpel, since Morse had more practice with broadcasting than with narrow transmission, but after a hesitation of too small an increment of time to measure, the tiny mech began clicking as loudly as he dared. The sound was almost drowned by Katrina's screams, and it was unlikely Scalpel would consider it important. Frenzy, on the other hand, had been communicating with Morse via morse code for the past year.

HELP K HURT HELP, Morse called, shouting at the door in hopes his friend would hear. Katrina's survival depended on it.

* * *

Four hours into the search, Lennox began to believe they were on a wild goose chase. Ironhide continued to press on relentlessly, but they had searched every warehouse and abandoned building within a ten mile radius and had come no closer to finding Lockdown or the ship.

Then Ironhide froze, stopped halfway through a U-turn and spat a word in Cybertronian that Lennox needed no translation of.

"What is it?" the major demanded, hand reaching for his gun. "Cons?"

"No, twins," Ironhide snarled. "We had three stowaways, that explains the plane's sluggishness."

Remembering the pilot's complaints about the aircraft's awkward handling, Lennox understand at once. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are here?"

"Along with the Neutral. I'm going to kill them." Ironhide opened his door. "Please keep searching while I deal with this, Major."

On another occasion, Lennox might have protested, but his friend's anger was clear and the major decided he did not want to witness this particular argument. Hopping out, he waited until Ironhide had left, tires squealing, then gestured the rest of the team onward, ignoring their murmuring. Explanations could wait.

* * *

She had never felt such pain before, not even during the worst experiments. It hurt to breathe as her ribs moved beneath the injured flesh. Muscles screamed with agony. Nerves sent bolts of lightning crisscrossing her back. Small dots of light skittered across her vision. Katrina sobbed for breath, wishing she would pass out, but something prevented even that small relief. A part of her knew that collapsing now would spell her end, from shock if not blood-loss. Had the AllSpark's power come to her then, the girl would have used it at once, but her concentration was too broken to focus and call to it.

The mech on her back shifted again, and Katrina braced herself for his next strike, but it never came. Instead a loud crash preceded the disappearance of his weight, and in the ensuing loud struggle a thin strip of cool metal brushed against the girl's face. She tried to slap it away, but moving her arm tugged at her back and it _hurt_, so badly Katrina thought at first the two glowing blue optics in front of her eyes were more stars from the pain. Then her vision focused enough to recognize Morse, and tears began to trickle down her face.

"Get out of here," Katrina begged her friend, voice sharp with pain. "Run, now. Please." Her voice trailed off in a soft wail when the little mech merely moved closer. Did he want to die as well? "Go, Morse, you can't save me. Not this time..."

F, Morse clicked, four small sounds that merged to form a single letter. He repeated it, and Katrina sensed he was trying to tell her something, but the pain was too much, she couldn't even concentrate on her friend anymore. Her vision flickered.

Nearby, there was another crash.

* * *

"Are you trying to tell me that _Prowl_ agreed to this?" Ironhide demanded, unable to believe his audio receptors.

Sideswipe nodded. "He thought there would be a better chance of finding Lockdown if Barricade came to help."

Ironhide turned his wrath toward the Neutral, had been quiet so far. "And why is that, I wonder? Is there something you forgot to tell us?"

"No," Barricade said, meeting the Autobot's gaze firmly. "But Lockdown is an opportunist. No doubt there is a bounty on my head, for deserting the Decepticons, and if I were wandering about alone..." There was no need to finish his sentence, but Ironhide did it for him.

"You would seem like an easy target. Not a bad plan, except for the fact you aren't alone, you have two of the most dangerous Autobots with you – that wasn't a compliment, so wipe those smirks off, you two. When we return to base you are-"

"Brigged." Sideswipe shrugged. "That's nothing new."

"If we didn't have Cons waiting just off-planet to strike, you would be stripped of duty," Ironhide snapped. "However, with Megatron leading them, they might attack at any time, and we'll need every mech we can get then." Scowling at the Neutral, he added, "Lockdown fights dirty, anyone who has met him knows that. Do you honestly think you'd get the better of him?"

The slight smile on Barricade's face had no relation to humor. "Don't worry about me. He's never faced a guardian on a bad day. When I'm through with him, he'll wish he hadn't."

"Is that so?" asked an amused voice, which drew everyone's attention to the mech standing less than a hundred feet away. "I've got an EMP generator here that says otherwise." Holding up the weapon, he pointed out, "It's set for a medium wide-arc burst, which means you four will be knocked out before you can reach me."

"Let's test that theory," Ironhide growled, cannons whirring to life as he charged forward.

Barricade and the twins hesitated, then followed, their own weapons sliding out of subspace.

Lockdown shook his head at their pointless attack and pressed the button.

* * *

Frenzy came barreling out of the room, almost knocking Morse over in his haste. Curling into a ball, the small mech crashed into Scalpel, tossing the mech off the injured human. Before the Decepticon could gather himself, Frenzy bounced to his feet and began deploying every weapon in his arsenal. Scalpel had no choice but to dodge until the other mech ran out of ammunition, then the Decepticon attacked, slashing with his claws. Frenzy moved too quickly, though, and when he saw a brief opening in the other's defense, he took it, lashing out and knocking the little mech back. Scalpel flew across the room, propelled by the force of the blow, and landed against the wall with a loud thud. Legs twitching, the mech tried to get up, but his injuries were bad enough to put him in temporary stasis, and his optics dimmed until they were dark.

After making sure his foe was truly unconscious, Frenzy turned his gaze toward the other two occupants of the room. Soundwave had made Megatron's orders clear, the human was to be protected, and if his master discovered Frenzy had been recharging instead of watching the human, there would be trouble. Scowling, the mech trotted over and surveyed the damage. He had a few scratches, that was all, but Scalpel's claws had done far more injury to the human's frailer form. Frenzy was surprised she still lived, considering how much red fluid covered her body. A mech who lost that much energon would be close to death.

Crouching down, Frenzy studied the human's face for a moment. Her optic shutters flickered, then her gaze sharpened for a second and the hand closest to him made a slight movement, almost like she was trying to reach out. Soft, wordless murmurs of comfort came from the insect crouched beside the human's face, but Frenzy paid it no attention. He needed to stop the leaking before the human died.

Just before the mech connected to the human internet to search for the proper first aid, his audio detectors picked up a quiet sound coming from the human's mouth, which twisted with pain but still managed to form a familiar name.

"Frenzy," the human whispered, her strange purple optics catching his for another brief second before the shutters closed again, this time staying shut.

Shuddering, Frenzy reached out to the nearest satellite and began downloading the information he needed, though his foremost question remained unanswered for the time being. How had the human known his name?


	29. Far From Home

Well, I'm not dead. And, no, I don't really have a good explanation for the past few months - I haven't been a Decepticon prisoner, or tortured by S7, or...you get the idea.

What I have been is swamped by two things - college coursework and a time-consuming thing called work-study. Then I got home a week ago and spent the entirety of said week trying to get caught up for National Novel Writing Month. Now that I finished my novel, however, there is plenty of free time for reading and writing. I'm extremely behind in all the fanfics I follow, but I figured updating would be a good idea before I got to those, so I spent yesterday and today banging my head against the wall of writer's block my muse decided to throw at me.

The result is this chapter. And because Microsoft Word/FFN hate my guts, there were large sections of joined text(all italicized...wonder if that's a known issue). Hopefully I caught them all - if not, please forgive me and point them out. Also point out any other spelling/grammar/continuity errors you notice, I appreciate it!

A huge thank you goes to everyone who faved, alerted and reviewed this fic during my long absence. I try to personally thank each and every one of you, however belated it might be, but if you don't allow PMs, well, I still thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am so glad you enjoy my writing!

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__________(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Nine

Far From Home

Gentle tapping on her cheek finally roused Katrina from the darkness into which pain had sent her plunging. _At least I'm not dead_, she told herself, groaning as she opened one eye, then the other. The room was dark, but two pairs of dimmed optics were close enough to make out – one blue and the other red. Morse crouched next to her head, quivering a little if the slight jittering of his optics was any sign. The unknown mech stood a few feet away and didn't move when she tried to sit up. Since she was still alive, the girl assumed Scalpel had been dealt with by the mysterious helper. Casting her mind back, Katrina grimaced, recalling more than she wanted to, but her memories stopped at a certain point, just after Scalpel had been knocked aside.

Gradually, soft clicks pierced through the turmoil of thoughts and pain that clouded the girl's mind, and she focused on Morse again. "What is it?" she whispered, dry throat making her voice hoarse. Or perhaps that was the pain. Everything seemed hazy, like Katrina was observing things through a cloud of smoke. _Not good, could be a sign of shock or head injury. What if my eyes are damaged?_ She wanted to rub the fog from her vision, but moving her arms proved impossible, it made fire spread across her back and the girl stopped trying to shift her position. A slight pressure on the wounds kept the pain alive for a moment even after she became still, and Katrina slowly worked out there were bandages over the injuries, wrapped around most of her back and chest. Which meant the stickiness on her hands and the floor around her was blood, and someone had bothered to ensure she lived. _Morse couldn't have done that, he's not large enough to have moved me. Megatron must want me alive, then, otherwise a Decepticon wouldn't have bothered._

"Are-you-conscious-human?"

The voice was familiar, and Katrina breathed a sigh – not of relief, because no Decepticon was truly safe, but because she knew this mech would not harm her unless ordered to do so. Not after she had brought his feline brother back. "Rumble? What happened?"

"I'm-not-Rumble," the mech replied, moving closer. "You-can't-see-in-the-dark?"

"What? No..." Katrina's mind raced to understand this paradox, but was distracted by a sudden bright flare. The lights had turned on. Once the girl had blinked clear her vision of dark sunbursts, she could see what her ears had not been able to believe.

Blue-tinted metal, not red, formed the mech standing just a few feet away. No emotion showed on his face, though his crimson optics remained locked on her face as though searching for something. When she made no immediate move to speak, he broke the silence. "How-did-you-know-my-name?"

Unable to respond, Katrina simply stared, forgetting her physical pain as a purely emotional one began to claw at her insides. Her heart skipped a beat, then two, then sped up until all she could hear was the pounding in her ears and her thoughts tumbling down with the last of her fragile shell of defense. _Reformatted...this is what they meant. Frenzy's been turned into one of them. He doesn't know who I am. He's a...Decepticon._

* * *

Four loud thuds, not quite in unison, slapped the air like thunder, leaving one mech standing triumphant.

"Didn't see that coming," Ironhide told the bounty hunter now lying unconscious on the ground. "I should blow a hole through your spark chamber right now, but we won't want to get caught in any of your ship's little booby-traps." Reaching down, he tore the EMP generator from Lockdown's grasp. "You won't be needing this anymore, though." A quick fiddle with the controls and a moment later the weapons specialist was giving the twins a scolding they would not soon forget. Only when Barricade managed to slide a word in edgewise and point out they didn't really have time for this right then did Ironhide relent and answer the question he knew must be at the front of the others' processors.

Holding up the generator, the weapons specialist explained. "Ratchet lost this little gadget to Lockdown some time ago. It's a bit outdated now, but still dangerous when used as a weapon. Fortunately, Ratchet had a disperser tucked away in subspace, and he let me borrow it for this mission in case I was ambushed like this."

"Nice," Sideswipe said, rubbing his helm. "Wish you had tackled him before we got blasted, though, my processors ache."

"I feel like I overcharged," Sunstreaker agreed, his sword appearing in his clenched fist. "Let me at that Con, I'll show him just how much pain _I_ can inflict."

"Not until we've gotten the ship," Ironhide said, holding out a hand to prevent the yellow mech's approach. "After that, get in line."

Grumbling, the twins complied with his wishes, picking up the unconscious bounty hunter before following the weapons specialist to where the human NEST members were waiting.

"Better stay behind us until I explain the situation," Ironhide told Barricade, making no attempt hide his anger at the mech's presence. "You do realize this is going to cause Prime a lot of trouble?"

"Yes," said the Neutral, shuttering his optics for a brief second. "I am truly sorry for that, and will take whatever punishment he deems appropriate, _after_ I rescue Katrina."

Venting air, the weapons specialist went ahead to speak with the humans. Arguing further with the other mech would only waste time.

* * *

Before, when she had believed Morse would be killed, Katrina had been able to cry, to sob with frustration and defeat and concern and fear. Now, though, her eyes were dry. This final blow had simply been too much for her emotions to handle, and the girl simply stared at Frenzy, unable to speak, her emotions as numb as her vocal cords.

FRENZY? Morse's clicks held a slight hesitancy Katrina could not remember ever having heard before.

"Strange-I-know-that-language," Frenzy muttered to himself, before repeating his question in a sharper tone. "How-do-you-know-my-name-human-and-sparkling?"

_Should I tell him?_ Katrina hesitated, then decided it would be best not to explain the reformatting. _He wouldn't believe me._ The pain in her chest increased as she gave a small white lie, based on part of the truth. "One of the others mentioned it before, and Rumble said you looked similar to him. Your voice is alike, too."

"We-are-spark-siblings," Frenzy said, nodding.

"Is that like being twins?" Katrina asked, regretting the question as soon as the words had left her mouth. This mech was not her friend; he had no reason to answer her questions and might take offense if she pried into his personal life. She was not surprised when he turned away, ignoring her inquiry.

"Enough-questions. Stay-there."

_It's not like I have much of a choice right now,_ Katrina thought. Considering how much pain moving provided, she doubted very much she would be escaping any time soon. _Even if they do try to rescue me, it will be hopeless._ "Morse?" she whispered.

K? Morse rubbed his head against her cheek, as much comfort as he could offer.

"Is there any way you could contact our friends? Anyone?"

NO SIGNAL, he replied, sad that he couldn't help.

"It's all right, don't worry. We'll figure something out."

"Stop-talking-human." Frenzy had returned with a human-sized cloth stretcher and Rumble.

"What-happened?" Rumble demanded upon seeing the human on the floor, covered in white bandages that were slowly turning red.

"Scalpel," came the terse answer, and Frenzy gestured for his spark sibling to help move the human into place on the stretcher.

Gritting her teeth, Katrina managed not to make more than a few whimpers of pain as they lifted her, then set her down. Morse bounced around on the floor for a moment, then leapt at the stretcher, legs scrabbling before they caught and he tumbled over the side to land against Katrina's left arm. It hurt, but she smiled anyway, grateful to have her friend at her side. One friend, at any rate. She couldn't meet Frenzy's optics. Or Rumble's, for that matter. Whether that mech knew what had been done to Frenzy or not, Katrina wanted nothing to do with him or the other symbiotes Soundwave kept.

Morse pressed closer to his friend as they began to move. He could feel her shaking, sensed her muscles tensing in an attempt to hold back whimpers of pain, which still managed to escape. The Decepticons were doing their best to move her gently, and the little mech was grateful for that, for he had seen how rough they could get, but he wished his friend could heal herself as easily as she could heal mechs like the Fallen.

_"Where-are-we-taking-the-human?"_ Rumble asked over a normal comm channel, still unable to establish their old connection. Soundwave was trying to figure out how to correct the problem, but he had Megatron and the Fallen to deal with now and with Starscream plotting something like usual, the communications officer did not have much time to spend dealing with his personal issues. Someone had to keep the ship running. _"Soundwave-is-busy-on-the-bridge. We-shouldn't-bother-him."_

_ "No,"_ Frenzy agreed. _"But-Scalpel-is-no-good-either."_

_ "Who-else-can-help-fix-the-human?"_

Although he didn't know why, Frenzy had a feeling it was not as simple to repair a human as it was to get a mech back into working order. Still, he didn't have any better ideas. _"Starscream."_

_ "You-are-joking,"_ Rumble said. "_He-wants-the-human!"_

_ "Then-he-will-help-fix-it."_

Rumble had to admit his spark sibling spoke the truth. He just wished their first choice could be a more predictable mech. Sure, Starscream could be counted on to choose the option most likely to cause damage to Megatron and/or his reputation, but the Seeker based that choice on his own reasoning, which did not always follow basic logic. _"What-if-he-refuses?"_

_ "He-won't."_

* * *

"No," Lennox said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Ironhide, but as the leader of this mission, I can't allow this. Not only is that mech a former Decepticon, but he is supposed to be back at NEST's base, in your brig. As for those two, they shouldn't even be on active duty yet. Optimus gave them leave until Sunstreaker recovered."

"This mech _is_ recovered, human," Sunstreaker snarled. "And we didn't come all this way just to be told to go home. Like it or not, you've got three more bots on your side, ready to kick some Con aft, and we're not taking no for an answer."

"They won't be any trouble," said Epps, resting a hand on Lennox's shoulder. "Galloway's already after our blood for taking this mission at all, why not really give him something to simmer about? Anyone have a problem with that?"

Lennox watched, amused but unsurprised, as their fellow soldiers shook their heads in denial. "All right," he said, throwing up his hands. "I can always claim mutiny among the ranks." But he smiled as he spoke, then gestured to Ironhide's unconscious captive. "Could you explain him, at least?"

"Bounty hunter," Ironhide replied. "He's the one whose ship we're after."

"So you knocked him out? Did you at least get the location of his ship?"

Ironhide shook his head. "Give me a moment to revive him. You two, hold him tight."

The twins obliged, perhaps with a little more strength than absolutely necessary, if the protesting groan of arm struts was anything to go by, but Ironhide said nothing. A broken arm or two would just make it more difficult for Lockdown to escape. A quick fiddle with the EMP generator and Lockdown returned to the realm of consciousness. Immediately, Ironhide bent down, his face less than a foot from the other mech's.

"You are going to show us where your ship is, and there will be no traps or forgotten passwords, understand?" The weapons specialist let his cannons whir up for good measure as he indicated the twins. "These two, myself and Barricade over there will be watching you the entire time, and if you make wrong move, you will be a pile of spare parts before you can process it."

"Got it," Lockdown muttered. "The ship is about a mile southeast of here."

"Load up!" Lennox called, and the humans piled into their jeeps and rolled after the mechs, who were not taking the risk of transforming.

"Ironhide, we can't be seen by civilians," Lennox warned.

The mech glanced over his shoulder. "I know, but the greater risk is losing Lockdown. He would take his ship and be gone before we could catch him."

"I could if my ship were in working order," Lockdown grumbled.

Lennox heard him and cursed, though not nearly as loudly as the mechs.

Barricade moved closer to their enemy. "It better be a quick repair, considering how much time you have already had to fix the damage."

"What are you doing with the Autobots?" Lockdown retorted. "Last I knew, you were running around with a human. Speaking of pests, where's the sparkling?"

"Frenzy is not a sparkling, and he was offlined a few days ago."

Ironhide admired the fact that the mech was able to keep his voice level even as he spoke of his loss.

"Probably offlined himself so he wouldn't have to watch you betray everything-" Lockdown got no further, because Barricade's hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

"One more word and you lose your vocalizer," Barricade warned.

"Enough." Ironhide pulled the mech's shoulder, and after a moment's resistance, the Neutral released his hold and stepped aside. "We are not Decepticons, to torture our prisoners," said the weapons specialist. _However much we might like to_.

Lockdown smirked, but the expression was wiped off a second later as the twins tugged him roughly on.

"Move it, we haven't got all day," Sunstreaker demanded.

They arrived at the ship about ten minutes later, and Lockdown showed them the entrance. Lennox promised to secure the perimeter while they got the ship ready to go. Once inside, Ironhide took over watching their prisoner while he showed them the damaged engine.

"Is this the only part that's broken?" Ironhide asked.

"Y-"

"Answer carefully," Barricade cautioned. "If you lie, and this ship goes down, you will be going down with it."

"It's the only critical part, other than the navigation," Lockdown replied.

"I'll take that," Sideswipe said, about to race off, but Sunstreaker's hand descended on his twin's shoulder and held him in place.

"I need your help with the engine."

Barricade grinned. "Navigation is mine." Before anyone could protest, he had left, running down the hall toward the pilot's cabin. He knew this ship well, it had been an old Decepticon warbird before Lockdown began to modify it, and when it came to _his _modifications, most were cosmetic. Others, like the pitfall trap waiting halfway down the hall, were not, but the Neutral managed to snag the edge of the hole and haul himself out. He continued along without much change in momentum, though he kept a closer optic on his surroundings until he reached the pilot room, the door to which opened with a quick slap to the entry panel. Once inside, Barricade made his way straight to the navigational computer. It didn't take long to identify the source of the problem – every circuit and fuse in the computer had been melted, blown or snapped in half. Power overload, possibly from a high-speed chase, more likely a lucky strike from a blaster. With a grimace, the mech knelt down in front of the computer and began pulling spare parts out of subspace, hoping he would have enough.

When Ironhide came to check on the mech an hour later, he found Barricade placing the front panel back in place. The weapons specialist waited until the panel had been screwed down before speaking.

"The twins just about have the engine back together. Lockdown's getting a free lesson in mechanics, or he would be if I hadn't left the EMP generator on accidentally and knocked him unconscious before they got started. You done here?"

Barricade nodded and got to his feet, groaning as joints stiff from being in one position for so long protested. "It was a mess, but it should work now, though it might not be as precise as it could be. Without the proper parts, I had to make a few adjustments in order to get everything to work."

"For a short trip, we should be fine, and I've flown manual before," Ironhide said. "If it comes to that."

"So have I, for that matter." Barricade moved to the pilot's chair and switched on the main board. "Everything looks good except the engine."

"Run a scan, just in case. I'll see how they're doing."

Without protest, the Neutral began to run a detailed scan of the ship, checking for any small errors that might prove to be much bigger later on. A small leak of atmosphere, for example, which would not cause the mechs much discomfort but would kill the humans. Or damaged landing gear, which could kill everyone on board. Or one of the thousands of other small problems that could destroy an entire ship if not dealt with. Barricade had seen – and fixed – many of them in his years of service as a Decepticon.

He was not prepared to find an issue he had never dealt with before. _"Ironhide?"_ he commed. _"We have a situation."_

_ "On my way. How bad?"_

_ "Not good, at any rate."_ Barricade ran a tighter scan, in that single area of the ship, one more time, then stood. _"Meet me in the brig. There are mechs down there."_

_ "Autobots?"_

_ "At least two."_ Already checking subspace for the limited medical supplies he kept on hand, Barricade dashed down the hall, jumping over the spot where he remembered the trap being, then continued toward the brig. _"Scans say they're injured. Badly."_

_ "Wait until I get there,"_ Ironhide sent. "_They must be from off-planet, which means they won't know of your Neutral status."_

_ "They are in stasis cuffs and in need of medical attention," _Barricade replied as he skidded to a halt in front of the brig's entryway and hit the entry panel with a little more force than necessary. The door slid open and he peered inside, then turned the lights up and stepped in, quickly accessing the situation. Two mechs were chained to the wall opposite each other, heads hanging down. They did not even look up as he entered. The amount of energon pooled on the floor around them was alarming, and Barricade wondered if they were even still alive. He took a step forward and was knocked onto his stomach by an invisible force that grabbed his arms and pulled them back, twisted into a position that allowed him no leverage for getting up unless he wanted to dislocate both limbs.

Something that sounded suspiciously like a gun safety clicked. "Give me one reason I should not kill you, Con."

Barricade found himself wishing he had listened to the weapons specialist, but it was too late to change his mind now. _"Ironhide, hurry!"_

Ironhide was kind enough not to say 'I told you so'. Knowing how volatile the situation was, the weapons specialist switched from a swift run to a headlong dash down the corridor. _"Don't move!"_

_ Wasn't planning on it,_ Barricade thought, then focused his racing mind on coming up with an explanation short enough that he could get it out before the mech on his back grew impatient and pulled the trigger. Preferably something believable, though considering how often Decepticons lied, it was a toss-up already whether the Autobot would even listen.


	30. Inside the Fire

Slightly later update than intended. This chapter did not want to be written.

Plan is still to update every fic one more time before the end of the year, no matter how stressful my life gets thanks to my insane family of overachievers. You know it's bad when you can't want to go back to school.

Thank you, as always, for reviewing. I appreciate your words of kindness or criticism, and always welcome input. Thanks for simply reading, too, it's good to know my story is being enjoyed.

_corrected as of 7/31/2012  
__________(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)_

* * *

Chapter Thirty

Inside the Fire

The weight on Barricade's back shifted a little. "Your time is-"

Pounding footsteps in the hall preceded Ironhide's entrance. The weapons specialist came barreling into the brig, took in the situation at a glance, and knocked the invisible mech off Barricade's back with a well-placed fist. The gun went off, searing the deck plate a few inches from the Neutral's head.

"Mirage, stand down," Ironhide ordered. "We do not attack Neutrals."

The mech shimmered into view wearing an appropriately contrite expression. "Please forgive me. I did not know." He held out a hand to Barricade, who accepted it with only slight surprise. Mirage had been well known among Decepticons for his peacemaking tendencies, which included occasional attempts at diplomacy with Decepticons.

"No harm done," Barricade said, rotating his shoulder joints to make sure they were in their proper places. Nothing pinched, and he relaxed a little. "I didn't even sense you when I entered the brig."

"I have gotten better at cloaking my presence from sensors as well as optics since we last met," Mirage replied, his voice a little stiff – their previous meeting had not ended well for either mech, and Barricade winced at the memory. "It was a skill necessary to infiltrating this ship."

"Which brings me to my next question," said Ironhide, putting his cannons away and moving to help Barricade, who had already begun to unchain the two captives. "What are you doing on this ship and why haven't you tended to these two? They're in critical condition."

"After I disabled the ship, I had hoped Lockdown would go on a search for parts, but he has stayed close." Mirage sighed. "I did what I could, patched the worst of their injuries, but anything more and he would have noticed and started looking for me. As it was, I believe he already suspected I was onboard, if only because a navigational computer usually needs help to overload its circuits."

"You owe me a lot of spare parts," Barricade grumbled, remembering the disaster the computer had been in. "It took breems to repair that."

"To be honest, I am surprised you managed the task at all, but I will repay you when the resources become available." Mirage knelt next to the nearest mech. "Ironhide, these mechs need medical attention immediately."

"Ratchet is back at our base," Ironhide said. "We can drop these two and Lockdown off there. You as well, if you don't feel up for a short mission."

"I would not mind a cube or two of energon and a few joors of rest," mused the blue and white mech, "however, if you need the firepower, I will gladly offer my services."

"Stealth would be of even greater use," Barricade said. "We are infiltrating the Nemesis."

Mirage frowned. "You are not serious."

"We are," said Ironhide. "It's a long story."

"But the Nemesis is currently located beyond the moon, so if I come along, you will have plenty of time to explain. You can count me in."

"I think our human allies had better return to base as well," Ironhide said, glancing at Barricade. "They wouldn't be pleased with working alongside you, for one thing."

Barricade nodded in agreement, grateful the other mech did not point out the obvious, that he should be left at the base as well, in the Autobots' brig. "And a ship in space is a dangerous place for a species that needs air to survive."

"Precisely. I'll explain that to them as we load everyone on the ship. Prepare to take off within a breem." Ironhide left almost as quickly as he had entered, leaving the two conscious mechs in an uncomfortable silence.

"You may as well begin explaining, Barricade," Mirage said at last, not pausing in his temporary patching of the unconscious Autobots' injuries. "Why are we infiltrating the Decepticons' flagship?"

"They kidnapped my charge."

"A sparkling?" Mirage brightened at the thought. "Where did you ever find one? Is that why you turned Neutral? I am surprised the Autobots did not try to take custody-"

"No," the Neutral said shortly. "She's not a sparkling, she's a youngling."

"Where-"

"A human youngling." Barricade allowed himself a quick smile of amusement at the Autobot's shocked look. "She _is_ the reason I became a Neutral," he admitted, "and the Autobots offered to take her in, but she chose me instead."

Mirage's astonishment continued to grow, but he managed to regain control of his facial expression and gave the other mech another frown. "She would be much safer with the Autobots, would she not? The Decepticons must be after your head for deserting."

"They are, but Katrina is still safer with me. At least, we thought she was." Barricade could feel barriers against the flood of emotion dammed up inside his spark giving, and clenched his hands into fists to release some of the pressure. "Decepticons began to show up recently, and I changed my mind, but Starscream's trine attacked as we were flying across the ocean. They captured Katrina and killed Frenzy." An entirely different ache from that of failing to protect his charge made his spark pulse with pain, and the Neutral sat down, partly to be at Mirage's eyelevel, partly because his legs would no longer hold him upright. Katrina at least would be kept safe, valuable as she was, but Frenzy was gone, beyond hope of rescue. Perhaps it was better that way, though, however much it hurt to think so. Barricade had seen images of deserters after Scalpel was through with them. Most of the bodies were unidentifiable.

* * *

Starscream stared in silence at the strange trio outside the door of his recharge chamber. No, there were four of them, scans picked up the tiny sparkling hiding by the human's head. Deeper scans probing beneath the organic's coverings told him the extent of her damage. But his processors still couldn't figure out why they were coming to him.

"What did you say?" he said, more to stall them than because he needed the words repeated.

"Can-you-fix-the-human?" Rumble repeated impatiently.

Could this be a trap set up by Soundwave? Perhaps Megatron had ordered it. If so, it would be better not to agree. "Why don't you have Scalpel do it?" Starscream asked, and the look shared by the two smaller mechs told him exactly what the problem was.

Venting air, Starscream calculated the odds. This could be the chance he had been waiting for. Besides, if the human off-lined before he could examine her further, it would be a waste. "Very well," he said, stepping back to let them into his private quarters. "But I will need your assistance."

Of course, they both protested, but Starscream was adamant, not about to let them go report to Megatron before he had finished the task. Eventually, the two mechs agreed to his terms, though they were reluctant.

"What-first?" Frenzy asked, watching the larger mech place the human on his desk, which had been hastily cleared into a large pile on the floor. Maps, datapads, miscellaneous tools and parts; Starscream considered how long it would take to sort everything out again and winced. He almost ordered the other mechs to clean it up, but he truly did need their assistance with the human, who was small enough to fit in his hands. The delicate work required would be made much easier with the smaller mechs' help.

"I need to assess the damage," Starscream told them, already downloading medical data from the humans' primitive network. "We will need bandages, clean ones. There is a crate of cloth somewhere over there-" he gestured to a corner of his room "-find it and start tearing strips."

"What-is-all-this-junk?" Frenzy muttered as he and Rumble began searching through the piles of crates Starscream had stacked on the far side of his room. Many of them contained human-made items of various sorts, from weapons to baby bottles to party balloons.

Starscream didn't reply, though he could have told them that Skywarp had filled his own room with souvenirs and was now dumping things in his trinemates' quarters without permission. The silver Seeker was too engrossed in his research and scans to respond. Though the damage looked worse than it actually was – Scalpel must not have had much time to do whatever his crazed processors had been trying to accomplish – it would become permanent if Starscream didn't act fast. The mech wondered briefly whether the mad scientist had been working under Megatron's orders or not, but it didn't matter at the moment. Information flowing through his mind as fast as he could process it, the Seeker called Rumble over to help him, then went to work.

* * *

Something wasn't clicking into place, and Mirage had trouble deciding which question to ask first. Eventually he gave up choosing and shot each inquiry at the Neutral as soon as Barricade finished answering the previous one.

"Why was the human safer with a fugitive Neutral than the Autobots?"

"The human government wanted her in their custody, and the Autobots would not have prevented it." A fact Barricade still had trouble processing, but Prime had his reasons.

More questions were raised by that simple statement, but Mirage shunted them to the bottom of the pile he already had. "What about the youngling's creators?"

"If I ever lay optics on them, they'll wish they had never been born," Barricade snarled, remembering all too clearly how Katrina had been when he first met her. Granted, it hadn't been under the best of circumstances, but Morse had shared some information as well and the Neutral could guess at the rest. Whoever had been in charge of Katrina before her sudden move to the Witwickys' had not treated the girl as a human being, much less a youngling in need of protection. Barricade doubted her parents had been involved, but creators who had given up their offspring to such a fate were even lower in his estimation than-

"Barricade," Mirage said, touching the mech's shoulder with a hesitant hand. He realized that his questions would have to wait, their effect on Barricade was all too noticeable and Mirage did not want to distress the Neutral any further than he already had. "Please calm down. Forgive my discourtesy in interrogating you like a prisoner."

With visible effort, Barricade shook off the dark thoughts, his blazing optics dimming to a more composed shade of red. "Your questions are justifiable, but I would prefer if you relayed them to the others for the time being," he said, slipping into the same formal speech Mirage used.

"That'd be a good idea, since you won't be around to answer them, 'Con!"

Startled by the unexpected voice, both mechs turned to find the wavering barrel of a gun pointed straight at them.

"Stand aside, Mirage, and let me get a clear shot."

Instead of complying, Mirage moved between the Neutral and the weapon. "Stand down, Leadfoot. This mech is a Neutral and any remaining power you possess should go toward healing your wounds."

"This damage is nothing," growled the red mech, shoving himself up with one hand while the other continued to try to get a good fix on Barricade. Wisely, the Neutral stayed still and remained silent, letting Mirage deal with the injured mech.

"Your injuries are more extensive than you realize," Mirage said, taking a slow step forward.

Leadfoot's grip tightened on his weapon, the tip steadying. "I can still fight."

Before Barricade could react, Mirage stepped to one side, giving the other mech a clear shot. However, even as the red Autobot cried out, "Die, you no good piece of scrap!" and pulled the trigger, Mirage was making his move. A swift kick pointed the gun toward the ceiling just before it fired, and before Leadfoot could take another shot the blue and white Autobot had wrestled the weapon away.

"Traitor!" Leadfoot brought another gun out of subspace, raised it, and collapsed.

Mirage tossed the new weapon away as well, then checked the red Autobot's status. "His systems sent him into emergency stasis lock." He vented with relief. "Roadbuster is also in stasis; his injuries are even worse. I have done what I can for them, let us leave them here to rest."

Barricade nodded in agreement and followed the blue and white mech out, careful to shut the door behind them. "Perhaps next time you could give me a little warning before you make a move like that. If he had been a little faster with the trigger-"

"It might make explaining your Neutral status a little easier if your optics reflected your peaceful tendencies," Mirage responded, not about to apologize. "The Wreckers are mechs you do not want to cross on a good day."

"Thank you," Barricade said grudgingly, hearing the veiled reprimand clearly.

"Do not thank me, mech, change your optics' coloring before it gets you killed without reason." The fervor in Mirage's voice startled the Neutral, but before he could speak, the blue and white mech turned into the engine room and immediately struck up a conversation with the twins, leaving Barricade standing in the doorway, unsure whether his presence was required or wanted.

_"Barricade, would you watch Lockdown?"_ Ironhide sent. _"We're keeping him up here for now, in the pilot room, so everyone can keep an optic on him, but if you wouldn't mind keeping both trained on him at all times, it would make flying a little easier for me. I don't trust the mech any further than a human could throw him."_

_ Interesting choice of words_, Barricade thought, amused, before responding, _"Of course."_ Purposeful strides bore him quickly toward his destination.

* * *

A few breems into his work, Starscream realized the human was coming online, if the change in breathing pattern, brainwave action, and fluttering optic shutters were anything to judge by. Unsure how to proceed, since he had nothing like the anesthetic human medics recommended for keeping patients sedated, the Seeker decided to let the organic regain consciousness before he continued.

"Wait," he told the two mechs working diligently alongside him. "We can finish the job once it is awake."

"Not-it-she," Frenzy murmured, without seeming notice his own words. Starscream ignored the blue mech.

"Why-is-she-waking-up?" Rumble asked, frowning. "She-should-still-be-in-stasis-lock."

"Humans don't have a stasis lock the way we do," Starscream said. _Unfortunately. This procedure is not going to be painless._

"Morse," the human mumbled, optics still half shut. Her sparkling companion emerged from his hiding place in her tangle of hair and nudged against her cheek, earning a wince from the girl and a faltering question, "Where...am I?"

"Safe, for the moment," Starscream said, unperturbed by the flinch his voice received. "Lie still, we are not done bandaging your injuries, and you have already lost more blood than you should."

Struggling for a moment, the girl tried to say something else, but her grimace of an expression told the Seeker how much pain she was in and he was almost glad when she slipped back into unconsciousness again. He also wished for a second that he could disable her pain receptors, but that was impossible without damaging her nervous system permanently.

"Almost done," he told the others, but the words were more for his benefit than theirs. Possessor of the AllSpark's powers or not, this human reminded him far too much of a youngling. Small, fragile, and all too easily lost like so many before.

* * *

Megatron was pacing when Soundwave arrived, but the Decepticon leader halted the moment he caught sight of his communications officer. "How are the interrogations going with the Autobot captive?"

"He still refuses to speak, Lord Megatron."

"Perhaps I should turn Scalpel on him," Megatron snarled, knowing he would not unless there were no other choice. The little mech was too unstable to trust not to damage a valuable captive.

"Scalpel is unavailable."

"What?" roared the silver mech. "What do you mean, unavailable?"

"He sustained damage during an attempted attack upon the human captive. Hook is repairing him."

Megatron scowled. "Tell Hook to leave that Pit spawn to his own repairs. I may still need the human. You kept it safe?"

"It remains functional." Soundwave neglected to tell his leader that the human was damaged and being repaired by his untrustworthy second-in-command. Frenzy and Rumble would be sure to keep Starscream from doing anything foolish.

"Good." Megatron resumed his pacing, seeming to forget Soundwave's presence for a moment, before he turned suddenly on the other mech. "What do you think of the Fallen?"

"He was a great mech," Soundwave said, choosing his words carefully, the implication clear without emphasis needed. "I follow your orders."

"Should I have revived him?" Megatron mused aloud.

Uncertain how to respond, Soundwave remained silent. It was rare that his leader expressed his doubts about a course of action already taken, even rarer for the communications officer to be a witness.

Claws scraping against each other as he curled them into fists, Megatron shook his head. "We shall have need of him again before this war is out. Prime must be destroyed. But he killed the Fallen with ease last time. How can I ensure he does not do so again?"

Soundwave continued to stand in silence, watching his leader argue with himself. It was not his place to offer suggestions or point out flaws in Megatron's reasoning. His one and only duty was to follow orders, and in doing so, serve the only mech he would off-line for without hesitation.

* * *

Wheelie slipped through the medbay's door and looked around cautiously. From his position on a berth, Sam watched, amused by the small mech's obvious fright. "Ratchet's not here right now," he called down. "Where's Mikaela?"

"Warrior Goddess threw me out of her room so she could change." As he spoke, Wheelie climbed up the berth. He was panting by the time he reached the top, whether from actual exertion or from the image currently held in his mind, Sam wasn't sure. Although the mech's obvious disappointment made Sam want to wring the perverted little mech's neck, Wheelie's next words shoved that idea right out the window. "Got some news you might be interested in hearing. They're coming back with the ship to drop off some injured bots before shooting for the moon."

Sam immediately perked up. "They're coming here? For how long?"

"Not long," Wheelie said, a conspiratorial smile spreading across his face. "But that should give someone small time enough to sneak aboard. Oh, and the humans are staying, too, so you won't be noticed if you're quiet."

Suspicion warred with delight at the news. "Why are you telling me this?"

Wheelie shrugged, the picture of innocence. "Thought you might like to know. I thought I might tag along, see the old roost for a bit, maybe pick up a few things I left behind while getting some aft-kicking in. That sort of thing."

There were a hundred different ways the plan could go wrong, but Sam thought about Katrina, all by herself with the Decepticons, and agreed. Anything was better than sitting around with nothing to do, even if the alternative was dangerous. _Suicidal might be a better term_, whispered a small voice of reason, but Sam ignored it. "If you can get me on without being caught, I'm in."

"Warrior Goddess won't be pleased with you," the little mech said gleefully, but before a warning light could start flashing in Sam's mind, Wheelie added, "Serves her right, too. My aft is still stinging from that kick."

Sam chuckled and gave the mech a hesitant pat on the head, which Wheelie batted away at once.

"I'm not a dog," the mech warned. "But I do bite. Come on, we need to get out of here before Ratchet gets back."

"What's yer rush?"

Sam looked up to find Jazz standing in the doorway, arms folded. "Hi, Jazz," the teen said weakly, wondering how much the mech had heard.

"Nemesis is no place for an injured boy or a former 'Con," Jazz warned, answering Sam's unspoken question. "But if ya really want t' help, Ah've got the perfect job."


	31. Give Me A Sign

So. It's been about...seven months. Yeah. Sorry about that. Life happened. Groveling isn't exactly my style, but I am very, very sorry to have neglected this story for so long. Please forgive me.

I'd like to give a big THANK YOU to all readers, whether or not you take the time to review. I truly appreciate your continued support and hope you enjoy this story as it draws ever closer to the conclusion.

Next chapter is in progress and should be up sometime in early August, Primus willing.

* * *

Chapter Thirty One

Give Me A Sign

"Let me get this straight," Sam said, folding his arms as he glared at the silver mech. "You want me to babysit Simmons?"

Jazz chuckled. "Wouldn't call it that exactly, he ain't a baby after all, but we need someone watchin' him t' make sure he doesn't try anythin' stupid."

"Like what?" Sam threw up his hands. "Sure, he's a bit more decent than he used to be, but I don't want to hang out with the guy unless it's a life or death situation, which it usually is. Actually, make that always is, and usually his fault."

Venting air, the mech asked, "Can ya keep a secret?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "That answer should be obvious."

"What I'm about t' tell ya can't go outside this room," Jazz warned, giving Wheelie a dark look for added measure. "Not even Mikaela can know right now. No one is supposed t' know this, though Simmons might, even if he acts like he doesn't, and-"

"What is it?" Sam interrupted, wondering how the ex-Sector Seven agent could have a secret so dangerous that Jazz was on the verge of babbling rather than getting straight to the point.

"As far as we can find out, Simmons is Katrina's only living relative. By blood, anyway – technically his mother would be her great-aunt, but he was adopted...that's not the problem, however. He has expressed concern for her on several occasions, though whether he actually knows o' their relation is unclear. If he does, there's a good possibility he'll try doin' the same thing you two planned."

"He wouldn't risk his life-" Sam stopped, remembering how Leo had described the man just before Simmons had run off on a suicide mission to destroy Devastator. "Okay, under a lot of pressure, like world-destroying stuff, he might, but-"

"It's a possibility Prime doesn't want t' risk," Jazz said. "Yer job is simple, keep him distracted until the ship has left."

"Easy for you to say," Sam muttered.

"We'll do it!" Wheelie said suddenly, nudging the boy in his sore ribs before Sam could protest. "It won't be too much trouble, and we can always ask the twins to help."

Jazz hoped the little mech was joking, though Wheelie had a mischievous look that sent warning bells ringing across silver mech's monitoring systems. Still, with most of the able mechs going on the rescue mission and those still on base and functioning at near full capacity busy repairing the injured or dealing with adamant liaisons, Jazz doubted anyone else could be spared.

"Do yer best," he told them. "And remember not t' tell anyone." With those final parting words, Jazz departed.

"Right," Sam said faintly, the information finally making a full impact. "Poor kid," he mumbled, following Wheelie down the hall toward the rec room, where they would hopefully find Simmons. "Imagine having _Simmons_ as your only relative."

"Yeah," Wheelie agreed. "Why do you suppose they don't want people to know?"

Sam shrugged, not sure himself. "You don't have to help me watch him," he told the little mech, reluctant to lose even a little friendly company but unwilling to force anyone to help him with the unpleasant task.

"Of course I do," Wheelie said, and his next words made it clear to Sam why he tolerated the little mech despite his amorous advances on Mikaela and general pervertedness. When he wanted to, Wheelie could be quite clever. "After all, I want to come along on the ship as well, remember?"

* * *

He had done what he could, now all they could do was wait for the human's own repair systems to do their work. Starscream ran a quick burst of ultraviolet over his claws, irradiating any contaminants he might have picked up, then gestured for the two smaller mechs to step back.

"How-long-until-she-is-healed?" asked Frenzy, optics still studying the organic with curiosity. He had yet to mention her apparent recognition of himself – that information could wait until the human became conscious again.

Starscream ran one last scan over the limp form as he replied. "Fortunately, most of the injuries were what humans call 'flesh wounds'. However, humans have much slower repair systems than Cybertronians. My best guess would be at least a lunar cycle – one of their Earth months – before it recovers fully." _Megatron won't be pleased to hear about this,_ the Seeker thought with satisfaction. _Bringing his army back to life will have to wait until the human's condition has improved, or he'll risk losing his only hope of winning this war._ Even better, it had been Scalpel who caused the problem, not Starscream, so the Decepticon Second-in-Command would be able to reap the benefits of a slight delay without fear of punishment. Not to mention the possibility that the little creep of a scientist might finally get what he deserved.

"If-you-have-no-further-need-for-us-we-should-return-to-Soundwave," Rumble said, moving toward the human.

A large set of claws landed on the table between the small mech and his target. "The human should not be moved," said Starscream. "Not until the injuries have begun to repair. Otherwise, they could be made worse again. It will have to remain here."

"_She_-will-not," Frenzy insisted, stressing the identifying pronoun.

"Not-without-supervision," Rumble added. "I-will-stay. Frenzy-report-to-Soundwave."

Frenzy hesitated, unwilling to leave the human with only his brother between her and the unpredictable Starscream.

"As I was about to make my own report to Megatron, perhaps I could pass along your message as well, and you both could remain to watch the human?" Starscream suggested, his tone of voice too innocent to be trusted.

"I-will-return," Frenzy said, hopping down from the table. He was out the door and halfway down the hall before the Seeker could protest.

"I will also be back as soon as I have dealt with a few things," Starscream told Rumble. Leaving the symbiote alone in his room would be, under normal circumstances, far too dangerous, but the little mech seemed content to sit and keep both optics on the human. "If anything changes, let me know immediately."

"I-will," Rumble promised, though the words meant little to the Seeker. It was far more likely the symbiote would contact Soundwave first, but Starscream did not have much choice at the moment but to trust the smaller mech. Even if that trust was unfounded and more than likely to cause the Seeker problems later.

* * *

Sam wasn't sure what to think, because Simmons's reaction to Wheelie's suggestion was not the one the teen or the little mech had expected.

"Let me get this straight," he said, pointing a finger first at Wheelie, then at Sam. "You two expect me to _want_ to sneak aboard a spaceship bound for another spaceship floating out in space somewhere beyond the moon? A spaceship, I might add, that is populated with the same Decepticon foes we recently kicked the asses of in the middle of Egypt? From what I've seen, they tend to hold grudges even longer than my mother-in-law."

That comment momentarily distracted Sam. "You're _married?_"

"Was. Worst two months of my life," Simmons agreed, then frowned at the teen's continued slack-jawed expression. "What, you don't think I could get married if I wanted?"

Deciding not to respond to that somewhat rhetorical question, Sam returned to the original topic of their conversation. "We thought you might want to come along considering that it was Katrina who got captured."

"I feel sorry for the kid, sure, but I'm not crazy enough to risk asphyxiation to help rescue her. Your Autobot buddies will save her if anyone can."

Wheelie and Sam shared a look that said everything – it was obvious the man didn't know of his suspected relation to the girl. Wheelie tilted his head, but Sam shook his in return. If Simmons didn't know, perhaps it would be better not to say anything. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to help them, so Sam began to edge toward the door.

Simmons, however, was not about to dismiss them so easily. "Where do you think you're going? Off to rescue the kid on your own? You'll just get in the way. There are more important things to do around here, like keeping an eye on Galloway. I didn't trust the guy when I first met him and I sure as hell don't trust him now. Are you two with me?"

Realizing that he would not be able to sneak away without the former S7 agent sounding the alarm, Sam reluctantly volunteered his services. The longer he considered the plan, though, the more it began to appeal to him. After all, Galloway seemed to know quite a lot about Katrina. Perhaps they would be able to shake some more information out of him if they were cautious enough. And with a former Decepticon to help, they might even be able to hack into the man's personal files if he proved uncooperative.

Glancing down to share the idea with Wheelie, Sam was horrified to find that the little mech had managed to disappear. "Wheelie?" he called, moving to the door to search the hall. There was no sign of the small mech or his tiny altmode.

"He probably returned to your criminal girlfriend," Simmons said, clipping a portable radio to his belt and tossing Sam another. "Welcome to the secret life of a spy, kid. Operation Idiot is now underway."

Sam sighed and followed the man out of the room, listening to the elaborate plan already being spun by the former S7 agent. Having gotten a taste of his old life during the battle in Egypt, Simmons wasn't ready to head back into retirement yet.

"Get enough dirt on this guy," he said, meaning Galloway, "and they'll be begging me to come back. Probably offer you a job, too."

"I just started college," Sam said.

Simmons shrugged. "Well, maybe they'll give you a medal, then."

* * *

"Not good," Thundercracker said, once Starscream had finished explaining the current situation to his trinemates. "We don't have a month for the human to heal."

"At least it isn't in Soundwave's hands any longer," Skywarp pointed out.

"For how long, though?" The blue mech shook his head. "It might be better if you forget this plan of yours, Starscream. With the Fallen returned and Megatron's current state of mind-"

"Current lack of mind, you mean," Skywarp snickered, recalling the heavy damage inflicted upon his leader's cranium during the recent battle. "Wonder why he didn't have the squishy heal himself?"

"The Fallen was his priority," Starscream replied, though he had wondered the same. Perhaps Megatron knew something he didn't about the human's powers. Was there a problem with using the AllSpark to heal? True, it had never been used for such a purpose, but he could not imagine why it would cause any issues. Certainly none of the mechs repaired so far had shown signs of trouble. Even Skywarp, after being on the receiving end of the AllSpark's destructive and constructive powers alike, seemed in better shape than any of the trine had been in years.

As if to prove his brother's thoughts, Skywarp flexed his arms and flicked his wings in a cheerful manner. "Well, he doesn't know what he's missing. I haven't felt so good in ages."

"Anyway," Starscream said, returning to his reason for their meeting, "I would like you two to run interference without being too obvious. Soundwave will no doubt try to recover the human and I would prefer if it remained in my care for the time being."

"No problem," Skywarp said, always ready for another chance to practice his pranking skills.

Thundercracker was a little more cautious. "Soundwave is a dangerous foe, Starscream. Are you sure you want to cross him?"

"Yes. This human could be the salvation of our race, but Megatron may throw that away in a blink of an optic if he goes into one of his rages. If I can study the human for a few orns, I might be able to isolate the AllSpark's energy and transfer it."

"And you might fail and draw Megatron's wrath down upon us." Thundercracker vented air, knowing that to argue with his brother when he was in his scientist mode was a waste of time. "Starscream, you better know what you're doing for once."

"I always know what I am doing," Starscream snapped. "It is other mechs who misread my intentions at times."

"Try all of the time," Thundercracker muttered, but he was already around the corner and doubted his brother had heard, though the annoyed hiss that echoed down the hall might have been an indication that Starscream _had_ heard and had not found the comment amusing in the least.

* * *

Ratchet swept medical scans over the newcomers as they were escorted off the spaceship. The two injured mechs were supported on both sides, one by Ironhide and Mirage, the other by the twins. Barricade stayed close to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, although he avoided meeting the optics of the mechs waiting to greet the new arrivals. Of the three new mechs, Mirage seemed in the best of shape, though even he looked worn down, and Ratchet sent him to find energon and a berth to rest, Jazz escorting him through the as yet unfamiliar base.

"Let's get these two to the medbay," the medic ordered, which a sharp look toward Prowl that warned the tactician that his inevitable scolding of the twins would have to wait a few more minutes.

Barricade, however, was fair game and the black and white mech descended upon him like an avenging angel, marching the former Decepticon toward the brig. He went quietly, knowing an argument would be poorly timed. Later, once the base had settled again, the mech could press Prime into allowing him a spot on the ship headed spaceward.

"The twins behaved?"

Startled by the question, Barricade nonetheless gave a quick nod. "Yes, they did." Hesitation preceded his next words. "I am grateful for your assistance, Prowl, but-"

"Why?" Prowl vented air as he pressed the button to open one of the two brig cells. "I may appear to be sparkless, but I _do_ feel emotions, and the thought of a youngling, whether Cybertronian or human or otherwise, in Megatron's grasp fills me with concern. I know what it is like to face that mech alone, without hope of liberation, and by now it is likely she does not expect a rescue attempt."

Barricade had to admit the other mech was probably right. They had taken too long to prepare already. Who knew what horrors Megatron had put the girl through the moment she was onboard the Nemesis? His imagination produced possibilities that had his spark twisting in its casing. "Prime will not forbid my further involvement, will he?"

"If it were his decision alone, no. However, he must take into account the human government's wishes as well. Galloway wrangled the permission we need to use the ship for a rescue mission, somehow-"

"He just wants Katrina in their government's custody," Barricade growled at the mention of the liaison. "The moment we return he will have her taken away."

"Prime will not allow that," Prowl said.

"Are you sure?" Barricade shook his head. "He thought it best that the humans take care of her before."

"I think more interaction with Galloway in particular has convinced Prime that that would be a grave error in judgment." Prowl ushered Barricade into the brig cell. "Once they have fueled the ship, the rescue mission will be underway. I will have Prime come speak with you before they leave. You may make your case to him yourself."

Barricade watched the black and white mech walk away, waiting until Prowl had almost reach the brig door before calling down the hall, "Thank you."

The other mech gave a short nod and continued out the door without a backward glance, leaving Barricade to his thoughts as he went in search of his leader.

Prime wasn't difficult to find. After Ratchet threw everyone except Jolt and the two injured mechs out of the medbay, the Autobot leader had gone in search of Mirage. He found the mech with Jazz in the rec room, both sipping at energon cubes while the latter debriefed the former.

"-then Katrina zapped me back t' my handsome self, only the 'Cons caught wind of her power t' bring back the dead and kidnapped her t' bring back Megatron." Jazz noticed his leader's entrance and tipped his head, but continued his spiel without pause. "The 'Cons tried t' kick our afts but they didn't expect Autobot reinforcements and when Sides and gang showed up they scrammed. Then humans dumped Megatron's chassis in the deepest part o' their ocean, and came up with the idea that they'd be better at keepin' watch on the AllSpark shard that was left."

"And their failure to protect the shard led to the recent events in Egypt," Prime said. "The human government is also the reason Katrina was not under our direct protection and thus more vulnerable than we realized."

"It is true, then, that the AllSpark was destroyed?" Mirage asked, his blue optics dimming.

"Yes, and no," Optimus replied. "There was the shard that revived Megatron, and the other shard that passed on a fragment of the AllSpark to Sam Witwicky. That power now resides within the Matrix, which I carry."

"What about this girl, Katrina? How did she get its power? She had it before the Cube was destroyed." The very thought of a fragile organic possessing what might be the remainder of their home's life source was enough to send a shudder through Mirage's frame. "Prime, why did you not insist upon her protection?"

"As sentient beings, the humans have the right to make their own choices." Prime vented air. "Though only a youngling, the child suffered much under the jurisdiction of the human government."

"Only they've not left any proof o' it," Jazz grumbled darkly.

"We have yet to uncover information stating this specifically," Optimus acknowledged, "but it is general belief that illegal experiments upon the girl led to her strange possession of the AllSpark's powers. It is not natural, and Ratchet's assessment so far suggests that using the power may be detrimental to Katrina's health."

"Which is why no one bothered t' let us know ya died." Jazz folded his arms, glaring at his leader. "If ya ever pull a stunt like that again I'll-"

"Follow orders, like usual," Prowl interrupted, walking into the rec room. "Prime, I have escorted Barricade to the brig."

"What?" Jazz exclaimed. "Ya can't do that, Prowler, he needs t' be on that ship for the Nemesis."

Prowl shook his head at the silver mech's words. "Do not make me brig you as well, for the continued use of that infernal nickname despite repeated orders to cease doing so."

"Thank you, Prowl." Optimus headed for the door, wanting to leave before the mechs' recurrent argument started yet again. "I will speak with him now."


	32. Help Is On The Way

Thank you for faving and following! And an extra big thank you to those who take the time to review - I love hearing what you think! Praise and criticism are always equally welcome.

For those interested, I am replacing all the old chapters of this story with the edited-and-improved versions today. So far, three chapters done, almost thirty to go...

DISCLAIMER: Haven't said this for a while, but I STILL don't own Transformers. So please don't sue me.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Two

Help Is On The Way

Despite being a hasty addition to their base, the Autobot brig had been constructed from sturdy materials. Its strong walls encased two cells and a small room at the front for a guard, should the need for one arise. Tucked against the third hangar – which NEST currently used for storage, not having the air support necessary to fill all the hangars with military aircraft – the grey building blended with the shadows to be something easily ignored most of the time. It had been Prowl's suggestion to build the brig in the first place, but human design to place it where it would be least noticeable. Optimus had appreciated the decision, as he disliked the reminder that sometimes, for the good of many, the right of freedom for one must be temporarily withdrawn. Or two, in the case of either pair of twins. Skids and Mudflap had already made a good acquaintance with the brig cells, and no doubt Sunstreaker and Sideswipe would do so as well once things settled down enough for there to be time for real pranks. Galloway had been fortunate – his situation could have been much worse if the twins had had more time to plan their escape.

Optimus paused outside the door, considering Prowl's part in the plot. It was not like the tactical officer to participate in such rash schemes, but the Prime could understand Prowl's reasoning behind his decision to participate. All the Autobots who had known Katrina had been horrified to learn of her current status as a Decepticon prisoner, and those few who had not yet met the girl had only needed a little prompting to imagine a youngling in the same position.

Still, disobedience could not go unpunished, and Optimus expected that Prowl was already planning the twins' sentence. However, it could wait until after the rescue mission was complete. All able-bodied mechs willing to participate would be welcome to join the rescue team. Unfortunately, that excluded Optimus, who still needed major repairs. The Matrix had returned him to life, but, unlike the AllSpark power Katrina possessed, had not repaired his injuries. No doubt he would have been forbidden to accompany the others, anyway, the Autobots had taken his death badly and it would be a long time before Ratchet would let him out of his sight. Ironhide had only one reason for not shadowing his leader everywhere, and that was the rescue mission.

Venting air, Optimus opened the door and entered the brig. If he could not join the rescuers, then he was not about to prevent a guardian from doing the same. Walking down the hall, he soon found himself outside Barricade's cell, which he opened before the other mech could speak.

"Come," the Prime said, gesturing toward the brig door and beyond. "Walk with me."

Hesitantly, Barricade walked out, keeping several yards of air between him and the Autobot leader. "Sir," he said, keeping his voice respectful, "they will not appreciate my being in your presence."

Optimus had no need to ask who 'they' were; the simple term included most of the humans and many of the Autobots currently on the base. "They may not appreciate it, but they will cause you no harm."

Still the Neutral balked at the brig door. "What about the liaison?"

"Galloway remains occupied with cleaning himself," Optimus replied. "The twins used a special type of glue highly resistant to washing. His aide has informed me that his current circumstances will unfortunately exclude him from proceedings for the foreseeable future. In his absence, Secretary of Defense John Keller is speaking to the President on your behalf. Standing orders are that confinement is unnecessary as long as you are under escort." Shutting the brig door, he led the way through the base along an ambling path that kept the two mechs at the edge of the activity.

Barricade watched the soldiers cautiously, waiting for one to challenge his presence or simply fire, but none did. There were plenty of dark looks thrown his way, but he was growing used to those and ignored them. "Prime, I must request a position on the ship headed to the Nemesis."

"As a guardian, it is your right to join the rescuers," Optimus said. "But will you take orders from a former enemy? Ironhide is in charge of the mission."

Considering the question carefully, Barricade gave a slow nod. "Katrina is my charge, sir. I will do whatever it takes to bring her home safe."

"Good." Optimus almost set a hand on the other mech's shoulder, but remembered Barricade's previous reaction to such a gesture and restrained himself, settling for a few simple words that carried the full weight of his sincerity. "I give you my word as Prime that the Autobots will help you accomplish this task."

"Thank you." Barricade raised red optics to meet blue, then looked away, unable to hold the other mech's calm gaze. "I realize my presence here complicates your relations with the human government."

To his surprise, Optimus released a quiet chuckle. "A little, yes, but relations were already strained. NEST was disbanded during my...absence, and I have not had time to finish the paperwork for reinstatement. Keller has been invaluable, but Galloway-"

"-should be slagged."

"Autobots do not harm humans," Optimus admonished. "Though several members of my team have suggested such a course of action."

"I am not an Autobot," Barricade pointed out, then vented air when the other mech frowned at him. "But I will take no action against the human liaison."

"I appreciate your self-restraint." Prime stopped. "We are here."

Looking up at the ship he had so recently helped pilot, Barricade ignored the welds and patches that held the well-worn vessel together. It was old, but it was space-worthy, and he wasn't going to waste any more time. "When do we leave?"

"The rescue team leaves in one hour," said Optimus, pinging the ship's door system to open the nearest sidehatch. "I will not be accompanying you, however."

"What if the Fallen waits for us?" Barricade demanded, a flicker of fear chilling his spark. He knew how high the cost had been to destroy that mech the first time – facing him again without a Prime by their side would be suicidal at best.

"That was my argument-"

"And my response," Ironhide said, walking out of the ship through the open hatch, "was that we've already lost you once, Optimus. We can handle a single mech, Fallen or otherwise."

"The Nemesis was fully crewed last time I visited it," Barricade said. "I would not count on facing only one mech."

"If we are successful, we will face none." Mirage's voice came from thin air.

A soft whir came from the weapons specialist's cannons. "Mirage, save your tricks for the mission."

Fading into view, the mech in question gave a slight bow. "My apologies, sir. Mirage, reporting for duty."

"Get onboard," Ironhide said gruffly, gesturing toward the opening. "That means you, too, Neutral." He turned a glare upon his leader. "You are not coming with us, Prime."

"There is no need to treat me like a newly sparked hatchling, Ironhide. I understand why you wish me to remain on the base, and merely came to wish you and the others good luck."

"Good." Ironhide turned to find Mirage and Barricade standing just inside the ship, waiting. "Move it, you two, we still have preparations to make and four members of our crew missing."

"Three," Jazz corrected, skidding to a stop beside the ship. "Optimus, what are ya doin' here?"

"Leaving," Optimus said, "for my office. Keep me updated, please. And good luck to you all."

"We'll be fine, boss, don't ya worry." Jazz nodded to Barricade as he entered the ship. "Made it outta the brig by yourself this time, Ah see. Ready t' charge in guns blazin'?"

"Stealth," Ironhide grumbled. "This is a stealth mission, Jazz, don't tempt me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, 'Hide." Jazz scurried down the hall before the weapons specialist could react to the use of his nickname.

"Here come the twins," Mirage said, watching two bright streaks head their way, followed closely by a black and white blur. "Will Prowl let them take this mission?"

"Yes," said Ironhide, glaring at the two miscreants as they transformed and dove into the ship without losing any momentum. Their twin thuds shook the vessel on its landing gear. "But there will be plenty of brig time for them when we return."

Prowl pulled up at a more leisurely pace and shifted from his altmode. "Ironhide, I leave those two in your capable hands. Please deliver them to the brig upon your return."

"No problem. Make sure Optimus doesn't do anything foolish while I'm away."

"He will continue to rest under medic's orders, or face Ratchet's wrath," the tactical officer said, with the barest hint of a smile on his face. "Good luck with your mission. Are you waiting on anyone else?"

"Just one-" Ironhide spotted Bumblebee headed their way, and corrected himself. "That is, no."

"Reporting for duty, captain," played over the yellow mech's speakers as he approached. He threw the other two mechs a playful salute, then headed into the ship, playing the theme music of a popular tv show as he went.

"Star Trek," Prowl identified with a brief shake of his head. Bumblebee might be a good soldier and talented scout, but his youth still showed in his bright enthusiasm and ability to remain lighthearted no matter the situation. Even the more logical tactical officer felt a brief glow of pride for the young mech, who never seemed to lose hope. "Safe journey, Ironhide."

"See you soon, Prowl, Prime." Ironhide stepped back to let the hatch shut.

Prowl listened to the conversation between ship and human air traffic control until the ship had risen out of range. He tracked it visually for a few moments longer, a diminishing speck of black in the wide blue expanse. Not for the first time, he wished there was another option, but the human child was their last hope of survival. Losing the AllSpark once had been spark-shattering for all Cybertronians, he had no doubt that its second destruction would be even more devastating. Even worse was the thought of her under Megatron's control, or, worst of all, obedient to the Fallen's command.

If _that_ mech had been revived, the rescuers would need far more than luck to complete their task. They would need a miracle. Prowl was not a very religious mech, preferring to trust in hard facts rather than mystic powers, but he found himself sending a silent plea to Primus, even as he returned to his everyday tasks of running a military operation. _Primus, protect the youngling and the others. Don't let the Fallen succeed._

* * *

"All systems check out fine," Sideswipe said, checking the readouts of several different monitors. "Can I have a turn flying?"

"Maybe on the return trip," Barricade said, claws tightening protectively around the controls he was manipulating. The one thing he hated more about flying than doing the flying himself under atmospheric conditions in a space vessel was being a passenger while someone else flew under atmospheric conditions in a space vessel. "Ironhide, is it necessary for everyone to in the pilot room?"

Cramped as conditions were due to there being seven mechs in a space meant for no more than three or four, Ironhide gave the affirmative. "This way, we can discuss our plan along the way."

"Sneak aboard the Nemesis, rescue Katrina, sneak off without being noticed," Barricade muttered. "How difficult is that to understand?"

"Someone must stay with the ship to protect it while the others search for the human," Ironhide said. "Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, I would like you to perform that task."

Their reactions were predictably in the negative.

"We want to go aboard the Nemesis," Sideswipe protested. "You might need our skills."

"Don't hog all the glory, Ironhide," Sunstreaker snarled. "I haven't had a decent battle since I landed on this fragging planet."

Ironhide growled, not amused by their insubordination. "What we need are our two best warriors protecting our only means of escape. Now, can I trust you two to do such a simple job, or should I throw you out the escape hatch to make your way back to base?"

"Why can't Bumblebee watch it?" Sideswipe asked, indicated the smaller mech. "He's the youngest."

"He is also a scout skilled at moving near the enemy without notice. Jazz and Mirage also have similar talents, which is why they will do the actual search for the human." Ironhide held up a hand to forestall Barricade's immediate protest. "Barricade, you and I will create a small diversion without giving our presence away, just enough to let the other three wander around unhindered."

"I am as capable of stealth as he is," Barricade snapped, nodding toward the bright yellow and black mech. "Let me take his place in the search party."

Ironhide shook his head. "I need you with me. As the only former Decepticon in this group, you are the only one who knows this ship's layout."

"I can give you the schematics," Barricade said, trying not to let his desperation show.

Jazz placed a hand on the other mech's shoulder. "Ah'll find her, Barricade."

Scowling, Barricade pulled away. "If you don't-"

"Ah know, Ah know, it's my head." Jazz chuckled. "Just watch my back, and try not t' take on the Fallen by yerself."

"I'll have Ironhide with me," Barricade said, half-joking.

"I would like to live and see another sunrise, Neutral," Ironhide growled. "Follow my instructions or you won't."

Under normal circumstances, the thinly veiled threat would have had Barricade tackling the other mech, but he needed both hands to control the ship. Besides, as Prime – and Ratchet and just about every other mech – kept telling him, he was no longer a Decepticon and should stop acting like one. Barricade shook his head and refocused on flying. He had to stop letting them antagonize him. Katrina's life depended on their success and nothing could get on the way of that, not Ironhide's jibes or the twins' whining or the last few bits of Decepticon honor that screamed for him to space the lot and carry on alone. _At least it would give me some peace and quiet_. Shaking the thought away, Barricade adjusted speed again, then switched the ship to autopilot, glad they were finally out of the planet's atmosphere. _Estimated arrival time, roughly two Earth hours. Hang on, Katrina, we're on our way._

* * *

Sam crouched in the shadows, feeling more than a little ridiculous. Dark clothes, a nondescript baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, sunglasses, and a state-of-the-art hand communicator completed his outfit. The boy imagined himself to look like he just stepped out of a cheesy spy movie, but Simmons had sworn that he would blend in with the shadows. A scowl passed across Sam's face as he shifted his position yet again, trying to ignore the protest of not-yet-healed ribs. His disguise didn't appear to be working. Many soldiers had glanced at him as they walked past on various errands, most simply shaking their head but others smirking and a few even cracking jokes to their companions about kids and their games.

_I'm not a kid_, Sam wanted to protest, but it knew it would be useless. College student or not, he was a lot younger than most of them and even those closer to his age had seen things he could never dream of. _Though I bet none of them discovered an alien race or spoke with said race's ancestors just before coming back from the dead._

Sighing, the boy moved his weight back to his toes and continued listening for his next command from the self-proclaimed King of Spying, Simmons. _At least they aren't looking at me like a ghost anymore._ He had to admit that was an improvement from the first day on base, when every soldier that knew how he had died and come back had stared at him like he was the alien. _I don't even have the AllSpark in my brain now. I'm just a normal college student._

Fingers drumming on the silent hand communicator, Sam sighed again. Once, he had been a little jealous of Katrina and what she could do – returning Jazz to life, for instance, and healing a mech's wounds with a simple touch. Having a taste of the AllSpark's powers had changed his mind on that matter, and now he could only pity the girl and hope things hadn't gone too badly for her.

_"Ready?"_ Simmons's voice asked, as clear as though the man stood beside him.

Sam bounced to his feet as he sent his reply. "Ready."

_"Target is on the move. You have your orders. Intercept now."_

Taking a deep breath, Sam hid the speaking device in his pocket, flipped his cap around backwards, and slouched toward a nearby door just as it opened. He did his best to act normal upon sighting the target.

"Liaison Galloway! Could I speak with you for a moment?"

Looking up from the folder he held open, Galloway frowned. "Mr. Wickety, I thought I ordered you off this island."

Not exactly the start they had been hoping for. Sam swallowed hard and tried to look earnest. "Um, no, sir, you didn't. At least, you must not have, since I'm still here."

"A situation that will be remedied as soon as possible," Galloway grumbled, turning away and heading down the hall.

Keeping pace with the liaison, Sam stumbled over his next words. "Um, sir, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?"

Galloway stopped in his tracks and leveled a suspicious look upon the boy. "What is it?"

"Could I shadow you? I mean, observe you? Doing your work? You see, I'm kind of considering government liaising as a career path and I thought that observing a real pro at work would be a good way to decide if the job's right for me." Sam felt a trickle of sweat run down his back as Galloway continued to eye him with heavy skepticism, but the teen's innocent look must have fooled him because the man slowly nodded.

"It's about time someone realized the importance of my job," he said, "even if it's just a kid. Follow me, but keep your mouth shut unless I address you directly."

"What if I have a question?" Sam wilted under the look he received. "Um, not that I'm going to have any questions, since I'm sure I can learn everything I want to know just by observing you. And I'll shut up now, sir."

"Good." Galloway continued down the hall at a brisk pace that had Sam trotting to keep up. The bouncy movement jarred the teen's ribs, but it was a small price to pay. He had passed his first test with flying colors.

Simmons nodded as he watched the live feed from the hallway cameras play across the monitor he had hacked. Phase One, perfectly executed, despite the boy's initial blundering. Now on to Phase Two. As soon as the two were out of sight, the former S7 agent strapped on his old bulletproof vest, pulled on a leather jacket, shoved a taser into the holster on his belt, and headed for the door. While Sam kept the liaison distracted, Simmons had his own part to play – namely that of more illegal hacking, this time involving Galloway's laptop computer.


	33. This Is It

Life happens, and when it prevents a writer from writing, well, it crushes the writer's spirit. Other emotional trauma added on top, with a good dash of stress? Not a good environment for anyone.

Please understand that I have not given up on this story, nor will I ever do so in the future. Although updates may continue to be sporadic and months apart, I will keep writing when I can. My utmost gratitude goes to you readers who have stuck by me despite everything, and I hope you continue to follow Katrina's journey.

Thank you for faving and following! And an extra big thank you to those who take the time to review - I love hearing what you think! Praise and criticism are always equally welcome.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Three

This Is It

For a moment, Katrina did not know where she was. Then her eyes resolved the grey blur into a flat metal surface, and she knew she had been placed on a table again. Her first movement sent pain burning down her back. Her second was more cautious, just her head turning so her eyes could scan her surroundings. Dim light lit the room, which looked different than before. They must have moved her while she was unconscious. A familiar shape sat nearby, red-tinted silver that moved when she tried to sit up.

"Stay-still," Rumble advised, studying the girl carefully as she winced and did as she was told. The bandages were stained dark brown, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped. Starscream did have his uses, however rarely.

"Where am I?" Katrina asked, eyes still searching for other movement. "is that evil bug thing..."

"Scalpel-is-in-stasis," said Rumble. "Frenzy-ensured-that. He-should-not-have-harmed-you."

She would have preferred to hear 'deactivated', but stasis was good enough for the moment. The girl managed a weak grin. "Guess he didn't get that memo." Closing her eyes, Katrina took a slow, deep breath. "Where is Morse?"

A soft chirp echoed in her left ear, and she turned her head a fraction to find the little spider crouched next to her head, eyes bright. He bounced a little and stepped forward to rub his head against her cheek, beeping a short greeting.

"Hello to you, too," Katrina said with a brief smile that faded as she turned back to Rumble. "Where are we?" she asked again.

"Starscream's-quarters," Rumble said, expression as unreadable as Frenzy's could be.

"What?" Katrina forced herself past the pain and sat up, face twisting into a grimace she could not hold back. Starscream was the last mech she wanted to be indebted to. Not that she felt she owed him anything. After all, he and his trine were the reason she had been captured in the first place. "Why?" the girl asked, rubbing eyes that felt gritty and far too tired to remain open for long.

"He-fixed-you-as-best-he-could." Rumble shook his head. "Humans-are-such-fragile-creatures,-and-your-repair-systems-are-far-less-than-adequate. You-are-fortunate-to-be-online."

Wincing, Katrina rolled to her knees. "I can't stay here." _Sleep isn't an option_, she told her exhausted body. _Not here. Not now. It's time to get out of here._

"Where-else-would-you-go?" Rumble gestured toward the closed door.

"Somewhere away from _him_," Katrina said. "I refuse to become a science experiment yet again." Standing proved beyond her current power, and the girl hissed in frustration, then began to crawl toward the edge of the table.

Rumble moved between her and the edge. "You-must-stay-here. Soundwave-will-fetch-you-soon."

"If he wants me so badly, why isn't he here already? For all he knows, Starscream might have carved me up to access the AllSpark's power." Katrina shuddered. _As much as I hate this power, I don't want to die to rid myself of it._ "I have to get out of here."

"There-is-nowhere-to-go."

"At least take me somewhere Starscream can't find me," she begged. "Soundwave needs me intact, right? How long do you think Starscream will wait to do what that other...thing tried?"

"He-fixed-you," Rumble pointed out. "Why-do-that-if-he-were-planning-on-taking-you-apart?"

He had a good point. Katrina's shoulders slumped. Even if Starscream planned to keep her alive for a while, he would not indefinitely, and he could make her life miserable in the interim. Given what she had done to his brother, she did not doubt it would a painful experience. Soundwave was an unknown variable, as she had thought him loyal to Megatron, yet he seemed willing to disobey the order for her destruction. Or had Megatron rescinded that without her knowledge? It didn't matter. He could easily change his mind again and she would be back where she started. Her only chance of survival was escape.

"I helped you," she said, raising determined violet eyes to meet Rumble's red optics. "Please. Let me go."

Rumble shook his head. "I-would-be-punished-and-besides-I-helped-you-too-so-we-are-even."

"Frenzy helped me," Katrina said, the memory hazy and sharp at the same time. "But you said he was reformatted."

"No," Rumble said. "Soundwave-said-that-to-Megatron,-remember?" He wondered uneasily if the human's memory was failing. Had it gotten corrupted somehow? Did memory cores get corrupted in humans? Too many questions, no time for answers. "Frenzy's-reasons-for-helping-you-are-his-own."

"Right," Katrina said, still stuck on his first remark. "Soundwave said...but you said he wouldn't reformat Frenzy!" She grabbed his arm, ignoring the flinch of metal away from her touch and the sharp edges beneath her fingers. "Why did Soundwave do it?"

"What?" Rumble seemed as confused as she was now. He shook his head, red eyes dimming. "Soundwave-never-reformatted-Frenzy-he-is-fine."

"He doesn't remember me," Katrina snapped, her grasp tightening on the mech's arm. "Tell me how that makes him fine."

"Soundwave-did-not-say-anything-about-it," Rumble said, pulling away from the human, gently so as not to injure her further, but firmly. "I-do-not-know-why-Frenzy-did-not-recognize-you." Though, thinking back to his interactions with his brother, Frenzy seemed much calmer than he had been when first arriving. His reactions to the human had been unusual, too. Certainly not looking at her in the same way he had when Rumble had broken into their house. Soundwave might have had something to do with that, though Rumble would never question his creator's judgment. "It-is-not-important. My-current-priority-is-keeping-you-here-until-Soundwave-arrives."

"No." Katrina wrapped her fingers around the edge of the table and hauled herself closer, then rolled on her side and swung both legs over the edge. "How far down is it?"

"Too-far-to-jump," Rumble protested. "You-could-break-something."

"Yes, I could," Katrina said, preparing to push herself over. "Or you could get me down a safer route."

"What-will-stop-me-grabbing-you-and-pinning-you-to-the-table-until-Soundwave-comes?"  
"I'll struggle, my wounds will open up again, and I will bleed to death," Katrina replied. "How does that sound?"

Rumble hissed in frustration. "Fine-but-we-will-find-Soundwave-once-we-leave-this-room."

"Sure," Katrina said, with no intention whatsoever to go searching for the intelligence officer. Escape was her only priority. "Morse!"

Soft clicking in her ear scolded the girl for shouting when her friend remained on her shoulder. A gentle pat on his head calmed the little mech, who settled down with a short whistle of satisfaction. Beckoning to Rumble, Katrina jerked her chin toward the room's door. "Let's go."

Getting off the table proved difficult, even with the mech's help. With Katrina leaning on him for support, they moved further down the edge of the table, next to a large ring welded to the table's surface. Katrina did not ask its purpose, guessing she would not like the answer. Rumble tied a thick cable to the ring, fashioning the loose end into a seat, which Katrina was then tied into carefully. Gritting her teeth, the girl rode down to the floor in pained silence, molars grinding against each other as the jolting starts and stops shook her bruised and aching body. Morse also remained quiet, though he patted her cheek with a leg each time he heard her teeth grating against each other.

Once on the floor, Katrina untied herself with shaking fingers, the rough cable slick with blood by the time she finished. In the time it took her to free herself, Rumble had made it to the floor and stood impatiently by, not bothering to offer assistance since the human seemed to have it under control.

"Ready," Katrina said, getting to her feet without asking for help this time. A couple steps forward and she stumbled, but Rumble moved to steady her without waiting for a request. "I can do it," the girl protested, pushing off from his shoulder once she had caught her balance. "Lead the way."

Rumble buzzed open the door and watched her move into the hall, staying close to the wall. Least likely place to be seen and much less likely to be injured if a mech passed that way without noticing her presence. Though how they could, Rumble didn't know. His sensors picked up elevated heart rate and a higher temperature than Starscream had recommended. Perhaps moving the human had been a poor idea after all. Having got this far, however, Rumble could not very well turn back, even if the human would submit to such a suggestion without needing to be knocked out and probably further damaged in the process.

Katrina glanced back at the mech who still stood in the doorway. "You showing me the way or not?"

Rumble gave a short nod and scampered to a position just in front of the girl. They began to move down the hall at a pace far too slow for his taste, but judging by the increase of the human's air intake, moving any faster would be impossible. He considered contacting Soundwave about his situation, then decided to get the human to safer part of the ship first. Soundwave had enough trouble to deal with now, between Megatron's encroaching insanity and the return of the Fallen.

Picking a high-end lock would have made Simmons's day, but Galloway had left his quarters open. A breach in security that brought a grin to the former S7 agent's face and caused him to shake his head in amusement. "Practically begging to be robbed." Nudging the door open, he crept inside, fingers curled around the taser. Not that he expected anyone to be left behind, but no harm in being careful. "If I like what I find, Galloway, I might just lock your door behind me when I leave. Wouldn't want to leave your room open to anyone sneaking in, after all. Though it would be a shame if you forgot your key."

Sweeping his eyes around the room in search of any security staff lurking in the shadows, Simmons forgot the door. "Nice place. Good to know our dear liaison doesn't lack in comfort the way he lacks in brains." He paused, then remembered he was alone and chuckled at his own joke before moving on, the room deemed safely clear.

The first door he tried opened into a bathroom more lavish than any he had seen elsewhere on base. Eying the clawfoot bathtub, porcelain sink, gold-edged mirror and soft white towels hanging perfectly on their hooks, Simmons let out a loud snort. "Ridiculous." He slammed the door shut and moved on to the next, which turned out to be a closet. He shoved the brooms back inside and nudged the mop bucket upright with one foot, then shut that door, too.

"This must be the bedroom," he said, opening the next door. A gun barrel met his nose, and Simmons reacted instinctively, diving for the floor and tackling his opponent to the ground in one smooth move. A quick zap with his taser and he could disarm the man at his ease, which he took great relish in doing. "Serves you right, startling a man like that," Simmons told the unconscious guard. "And serves Galloway right, employing a soft-stomached guard he brought with him from Washington, rather than trusting a soldier to do the job."

A quick check of the bedroom in all corners revealed the room to be clean, and Simmons moved toward the desk, looking for a laptop. No sign of the electronic device he wanted, so he began making wider sweeps even as he thought back to the living room. No, there had been no laptop on the coffee table or couch there. Perhaps Galloway had taken it with him, though Simmons doubted it.

Whipping back the bed covers, Simmons found nothing but a pair of silk pajamas carefully folded and laid upon the pile of pillows at the head. Frowning, he tossed the blankets back into some semblance of order, then looked toward the ground, where a dust skirt ran around the edge of the bed, which appeared to be raised from the ground. "Could it really be that simple?" he caught sight of a crumpled edge, as though someone had been careless when shoving back the skirt at some point, and grinned. "Jackpot," he muttered, reaching under the dust skirt and pulling out a briefcase.

It also had not been locked, and Simmons popped it open to find it full of folders. A lawyer's kind of briefcase, but not the content he had been searching for. Cursing, Simmons slammed the briefcase shut and shoved it back beneath the bed, promising himself he would check its contents some other time. Who knew what kind of secrets Galloway might keep in printed form.

"Where is it?" Simmons grumbled, spinning on his heel to look around the room again. Galloway wouldn't have left a guard in the bedroom without a good reason, and the rest of his quarters had revealed nothing. Returning to the desk, Simmons began checking the drawers, which he had glanced through briefly without noticing anything unusual.

Beneath a flurry of papers, some marked with red stamps and others with seals, Simmons found the laptop at last. It was smaller than he had expected, which explained why its weight in the drawer hadn't caught his attention beforehand. Knowing his time was limited, Simmons did not waste precious minutes. Grabbing his handheld communicator, he switched frequencies and whispered, "Wheelie, your time has come."

Seconds later the toy truck flew into the room, using the guard's body as a ramp. Transforming mid-air, Wheelie landed near the desk and scrambled up the side onto its surface. "Let me at it!"

"Hurry," Simmons advised, then sat back and watched the ex-Decepticon go to work.

When Wheelie had told him he knew a thing or two about hacking, Simmons had not expected much from the tiny deserter. However, the ex-Decepticon proved his worth, blasting past the laptop's firewalls in seconds and downloaded every fragment of data on the machine in the time it took Simmons to shove in a USB stick and do a file search.

"Let's go," Wheelie said, hopping down from the desk, and repeating the man's words back to him. "Hurry!"

"Hang on a second," Simmons said, opening a folder that had popped up in his list of results. Scanning the documents within, he selected two and copied them to his flash drive, then yanked it from the computer and shut it down. Shoving it back beneath the papers, he nodded to Wheelie and gestured toward the door. "Time to find out what juicy secrets our good liaison is keeping from us. First, though, we better rescue Sam from the man's clutches."

Wheelie rolled his eyes. "I agreed to help with the hacking because Galloway'll get me thrown off this island eventually if he sticks around." Simmons himself had made that argument after hunting the little mech down in the rec room, where he had been searching unsuccessfully for Mikaela, or so he said. His sudden departure from their impromptu meeting before had gone unexplained, and Simmons had preferred to try for better results than go back and question why the mech had changed his mind in the first place.

Simmons nodded. "Same goes for me and any other civilian, we'll be cut off from the Autobots and open targets for any Decepticon lackey lucky enough to catch our scent."

"Opposing him from behind is fine with me. Openly showing my presence, less so," Wheelie grumbled. "As long as he's still here, I would rather he forgot I existed."

"Fine," Simmons said. "Go wait in my quarters. You can start downloading the information onto the laptop on my desk. It's a clean system, so any viruses he happened to be carrying won't harm my own files."

"Viruses," Wheelie snorted. "You humans don't know the meaning of the word. I scrubbed the files clean, anyway."

"Just go," Simmons said. "I'll meet you there shortly." Adjusting his leather jacket over the taser holster and brushing back his hair, he grinned. "Not bad for half an hour's work."

"It took you that long to find the laptop? I thought you and the boy were still waiting for Galloway to leave the room." Chuckling, Wheelie transformed and left the room at the same breakneck pace he had entered it.

Simmons was more cautious, checking the hallway to make sure it was clear before strolling out like he owned the place, locking the door behind him.

Despite her efforts, Katrina had begun to lag behind, and Rumble kept pausing to wait for her. He finally stopped where the hall split in two, running in opposite directions. Watching the human's approach, Rumble questioned his judgment again about letting the human talk him into moving from Starscream's quarters. Her determination remained strong, but it looked like her body was breaking down like an old mech's. Limping and occasionally reaching a hand out to the wall for balance – and also leaving a streak of blood behind each time in a trail Rumble feared might be all too recognizable – Katrina stumbled to a halt in front of the silvery red mech and sighed.

"Which way?" she asked, an unspoken "how much further" ringing against his audio receptors.

"This-way," he pointed. "Not-far."

Katrina took a step in that direction, then stopped when the mech didn't stir. "Rumble?" she murmured, reaching a hand toward him.

_"Rumble, request assistance immediately_." The command repeated itself again in a voice that was infinitely patient, waiting for a response. Soundwave calling him, with a tag upon the message that gave his position in the opposite direction, in a part of the ship Rumble would have rather not ventured.

"Rumble?" the human's voice had taken on a pleading tone, and Rumble glanced her way. Violet eyes shining with desperation met his own blank gaze that masked his inner turmoil.

_"Rumble, request assistance immediately."_

Still Rumble hesitated, torn between conflicting orders, but Soundwave's call could not be ignored. His creator needed him, and he had to answer. The human would have to survive without his assistance. Without sparing Katrina another glance, he took off down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Katrina watched him go, a diminishing silvery shape in her blurry vision. Shoulders slumping, she took another step forward, away from the mech's own destination. Every step was another jolt of searing pain, but she didn't dare stop. Why Rumble had run, she didn't know, but for whatever reason he had given her a chance to make herself scarce and she was not going to squander the opportunity.

It appeared, though, that her body was not willing to push itself any further, and a little further down the hall she had chosen, her legs collapsed, dropping the girl against the wall. Gasping for breath, she scrambled to her knees, leaning against the cool metal to her left for support. Black dots swam into her vision, followed by a grey fog that refused to vanish, even when she rubbed her eyes. Panic bubbled up, mixing with fear to form an acid rock burning a hole in her stomach.

"Morse," she murmured, reaching up to her friend, who trembled underneath her touch. "It's going to be okay. We'll make it out of here."

Rumbling exploded overhead, and Katrina dove to the floor, covering her ears as they ached from the sudden onslaught of sound. Words, she could make out words among the noise now.

_"FIND HER! FIND THE HUMAN!"_

Megatron. Her escape was known. Katrina took a deep breath. Giving up, no longer an option. Anger flared hot in her chest, and her hands burned with a feeling she knew all too well. Under their own compulsion, they moved to the metal she leaned against, lying flat against the wall.

"Help me!" she screamed, and the power flowed.


	34. Stand in the Rain

Those of you also following Human Experiment, forgive me for the continued lack of updates for that particular story. I struck a vein of inspiration for Revealing Secrets and am determined to mine every scrap of muse I can from it before venturing back to other stories.

My grateful thanks goes out to you readers who continue to stick with these story through the storm of sporadic updates and long silences. As this story begins to reach its end, I hope you will continue to stand by and watch Katrina's tale unfold.

Thank you also to all who offer a review, whether it be criticism or praise. Your thoughts are always welcome. I try to reply to every review, as well as thank those who fave and follow this fic, but if I am unable to do so, please know that I am grateful for your support.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Four

Stand in the Rain

Something stirred in the depths of the Nemesis's computer, a presence that had not been felt for millennia. A consciousness thought lost forever. Ancient systems, long-abandoned, woke once more to begin the familiar process of collecting and analyzing information. Databanks were checked, scans were put into motion, and in a few seconds, the presence knew all that had occurred in its absence. But that information seemed trivial compared the sudden remembrance of what that consciousness had once represented, and now represented again.

"I am Trypticon." The words echoed from the walls, reverberating through the halls until the entire ship sang with the pure elation of a being who had considered itself deceased forever. "I am Trypticon!"

The words turned many Decepticons' heads, caused plenty to pause in their work to glance up in shock, but Megatron was the first to react. Without a word he headed for the control room, determined to find out just what had caused this impossibility to occur. He passed Soundwave, headed in the other direction, and stopped his communications officer with a raised hand.

"What is the meaning of this, Soundwave?"

"Starscream's report incorrect. Trypticon survived."

"But how?" Megatron himself had scoured the ship's systems for any signs of remaining intelligence after the initial death of the huge Cybertronian. He and many others, including Soundwave who rarely missed even the smallest of details, had found nothing.

"Unknown." Soundwave's expression remained unchanged, and not for the first time Megatron wished it was easier to read the other mech's thoughts. He was among the few that knew Soundwave's own suggested abilities of that matter were falsified, but the mech did have an uncanny ability to read a mech's movements and facial expressions to determine motives and possible reactions.

"Contact me as soon as you have any information on this matter," Megatron ordered, then continued on his way, leaving his communications officer to finish his current task, whatever that happened to be. Loyal as Soundwave was, the Decepticon leader knew he could trust the mech to do what he thought was right for the continued success of the Decepticon faction.

* * *

Every limb weighed her down, and Katrina struggled to stand, ears ringing from the shouts that still echoed in the halls. _At least I didn't faint..._ she noted, trying to ignore the headache splitting her mind in two. She tried to recall the past few minutes, but flashes of bright light still sparkled in her vision and the girl shook her head to clear it. _What have I done this time?_ she wondered silently in increasing despair.

"You are not Cybertronian." The voice seemed to come from all around her, and Katrina froze, eyes darting around for any sign of movement other than the swimming black dots of after-flash. She could see nothing different, just empty corridor in both directions, curving around corners to different hallways. "Who is there? Where are you?"

"I am Trypticon," came the voice again, this time more localized, and Katrina watched a small projection unfold from the wall nearby.

"The ship?" Katrina wondered aloud, then shuddered at the very thought that gave her. _I brought the entire ship to life? A Decepticon warship with sentience?_

"This vessel is my current form, yes." There was a slight pause. "You brought me back." It was not a question, nor were the ship's next words." "You possess the AllSpark's power."

"Yes," Katrina said, leaning against the wall._ What have I done?_ she asked herself again, closing her eyes. _This may be worse than the Fallen._ The very idea made her shiver with fear. If this ship was capable of transforming, how large a mech would it become? And how much damage could such a being cause on Earth under Megatron's command? Shaking her head, trying to deny the truth, she almost missed the ship's next words, refocusing on its voice just in time.

"...thought I had off-lined for good. You gave me life. For that, I will protect you."

Unable to believe her ears, Katrina murmured, "Why?"

"You gave me life," the mech repeated. "For that I owe you my spark."

Katrina sank to her knees, unable to keep herself standing any longer. Exhaustion, her constant companion, was digging its claws in again, and the girl struggled to stay awake even as the darkness promised relief from pain. "I have to get away." Reaching out, she touched the wall, feeling a brief tingle of electricity beneath her fingers before it faded to the simple coolness of metal. "Please, I need to get back to Earth." Her hand flexed, trembled with the effort to raise it, than trailed down the wall until it rested on the floor.

"Earth." The word was spoken hesitantly, as though the speaker had never heard it before. "Database entry indicates this to be your planet, third from the local star. We are currently in geosynchronous orbit around this planet, just beyond its single satellite."

"Yes, Earth." Katrina closed her eyes, imagining the scent of fresh air, warm sunshine on her skin, rustling wind. Maybe even her guardians, waiting to take her... "Home. I want to go home." Her voice broke, cracked with pain and sadness, soaked in the tears she had shed. "Please, will you take me home?" Hope hurt almost too much to bear, but it still wriggled its way into her heart.

"If that is your wish. You gave me life again, Earthling, I will repay you in any way I can."

_It could be dangerous_, she thought suddenly. _If the Autobots think the ship – he, she? – is attacking, they might strike first, to spare human casualties. _"Don't fight," she whispered, giving in to the darkness and hoping it would not last too long this time. "Please don't fight...Autobots..."

Morse pressed against her cheek, but the girl was already unconscious again. She was growing weak, of this the little spider was certain. His entire body shuddered with concern as he listened to the Cybertronian's next words, unheard by the human.

"I do not wish to fight any longer," Trypticon said, then switched from localized transmission to ship-wide. "All Decepticons, hear my words – I am Trypticon and I have returned from the Pit where you allowed me to be sent. Leave my presence and I will not pursue, remain and you may wish I had remained off-line."

* * *

Outside the control room, Megatron slammed a fist against the door's entry panel, cursing loudly. Entry to the room was blocked, and Trypticon's warning, repeated in steady intervals, pounded mockingly against the Decepticon's audio receptors.

"Trypticon," he roared, charging his cannon and aiming the weapon at the control room's door. "Open this room or I will personally crush your spark."

"You could try, Megatron," came the ominous reply, quite conspicuously lacking the usual 'Lord' that prefaced his name. "But you would fail. Weapons systems, armor, all designed to keep the Autobots out, now turned upon you."

"Why?" Megatron howled, letting loose the shot anyway. It exploded against the door with a force that blew him backwards into the wall, while leaving nothing but a black scorch mark upon the door itself. So smart, all those modifications they had made to create a fortress in the air, and now his own security systems were working against him. "Why, Trypticon?"

"I tire of fighting, and you can only see the next battle. Leave, Megatron, or taste the firepower you bestowed upon me."

Megatron stormed down the hallway. Perhaps the control room was out of reach, for now, but he had other ways, other tricks up his sleeve. Provided Hook's administrations had gone according to plan, the Fallen should be awake and ready for battle. Now all Megatron had to do was convince the mech that the ship they were on was worth destroying, at least at the conscious level. No point dismantling the entire vessel, after all. Megatron still had plans involving it being in one non-sentient piece.

* * *

Morse had never wished so badly that he had a bigger frame. It took so long to cover ground with his small legs, even moving as quickly as his systems would allow without overriding safety protocols. He would have done so if he thought there was no chance of going into stasis lock, but with Katrina in the condition she was in, he did not dare risk shutting down. Even leaving her side was perilous, but his friend's life depended on him finding sympathetic help – however unlikely that was – before someone else found her.

Voices ahead, just around the corner, caught his attention, and he quickened his pace, recognizing one of those voices well. The mech had held him prisoner before, and Morse had not forgotten how Thundercracker had released him. Surely the Decepticon might find it in his spark to do the same for another prisoner or two.

Too late, Morse discovered that the other voices belonged to the blue mech's trinemates. Skidding to a halt before the three Seekers, Morse tipped his tiny head back and would have gulped in his systems allowed such a movement. One step and he would be squashed like a bug.

Skywarp was the first to notice the small mech's presence and he stopped in his tracks, already targeting Morse with his gun. "It's the human's insect! Get it!"

Thundercracker batted aside his brother's weapon before it could fire. "Don't hurt the sparkling."

_"Help!"_ Morse broadcast, wishing he could do direct transmissions with more ease. He had little chance to practice around Katrina, since the transmissions so often gave her headaches.

"What do you want?" Starscream demanded, scooping up the tiny mech before Morse could react to the larger mech's sudden movement.

Trying to keep his spark steady despite his dangerous position, Morse sent, _"Katrina need help."_

Starscream laughed, an unpleasant and high-pitched sound. "Sparkling, this ship is out of control. We must depart. Your precious human will have to find her own way off."

Morse had heard the ship's announcement repeat itself and even caught the sounds of hurried footsteps, far off down the halls, but he knew Katrina was in no position to depart on her own, not after such a large release of energy. If his friend pushed herself too much further, she might off-line. _"Please."_ Desperation made his transmission crackle, and he did his best to hold the mech's crimson gaze, not wanting to seem weak by looking away.

A long moment of silence was broken by the creak of Thundercracker's arm as he reached toward Starscream. "Let me go," the blue mech said, holding out his hand. "I will meet you where we planned."

Morse vented air, almost collapsing in relief as he was transferred between mechs. _"Thank you."_

"This is foolishness," Starscream said, shaking his head, though he could tell by the look on his trinemate's face that this was one of the rare times he could not talk Thundercracker out of his decision. "You might off-line," he warned. "Please reconsider."

"For the sake of the AllSpark and our species, I will risk it." Thundercracker placed his empty hand on Starscream's shoulder, giving him a quick nudge down the corridor in the direction they had been heading. "Go. If I am not there within a breem, depart. I will find you."

"Be careful," Starscream said, wings still twitching a little with indecision. "Skywarp, let's go."

With an unhappy scowl, the purple mech followed his brother, not pleased with this sudden turn of events but not about to challenge his older brothers' decision.

Looking down at the small mech he now held, Thundercracker cursed himself for a brief moment for having a weak spot in his spark for the helpless. "Where is the human?" he asked, and headed in the direction Morse pointed. "You will owe me for this, sparkling, understand?"

_"Owe you two_," came the reply, laced with relief.

"You are slagging right." Thundercracker winced as the ship began repeating its demand for all Decepticons to depart, and quickened his pace. He had seen what the internal defense systems could do against Autobot infiltrators and did not want those weapons turned upon him. Why the ship had not fired yet, he did not know, but the Seeker could almost believe that the All Spark's power was changing the mechs it returned to life, for the good. With a few notable exceptions that ruined this theory, such as his own leader and the powerful Fallen, who sounded from Starscream's brief report to be the same power-hungry and dangerous mech he had been before Prime tore him apart.

_"Why help?"_

"None of your business," Thundercracker said. "Just focus on the task at hand, little one."

_"Not little!"_

"Your spark may not be, but your protoform is. Small enough to get lost forever in this ship. You better not be leading me astray."

_"There,"_ the mech said by way of reply, stabbing a leg into the air toward the wall they were passing. Thundercracker took a step back and glanced down the hall they had just passed – it was empty. No sounds of approaching footsteps from either direction, just the constant reminder over the comm to depart at once. Returning to the human's side, he studied her for a moment, not liking what his scans picked up, or didn't pick up. Her vital signs were low, too low for him to have detected without the little mech's notice or at least a medical level of scan.

"You are sure moving her will be safe?" the Seeker asked, crouching down to better reach the human.

"Not for you." A section of wall slipped back and Thundercracker found himself facing part of the anti-piracy weapons system, which was loaded with small but powerful shells, more than enough to incapacitate or kill even a mech of Megatron's size with relative ease. "Stand up and back away, Thundercracker."

"Trypticon," Thundercracker said, making no move to comply. "I am here to help the human."

"How can I believe you? According to records your trine brought her here in the first place."

"Not every order Starscream gives is one I agree with," the blue mech replied, optics flickering from the gun pointed at his head to the human who had started to make a rough sound, like a stuttering engine. "I can get her to safety more easily than yourself. Your size alone will terrify the humans and may cause an aerial strike that might not harm you but would slow your progress considerably."

"Whereas they will welcome a Decepticon with wide arms?"

"Perhaps not," said Thundercracker. "But at least I can raise the white flag, as the humans say, and release her into their custody when they take me as a prisoner of war."

"You would let yourself be captured for the human?" Trypticon sounded pleased and a bit incredulous. "What does your trine think of this?"

"No doubt that my processors are fragged," Thundercracker replied. "But Starscream knows he cannot talk me out of it, so he let me come. Not exactly with his blessing, but here I am. Now, will you remove this gun from my face so I may help the human, or will this impasse continue until we all off-line?"

With the quiet hiss of hydraulics and rasping metal against oiled metal, the gun vanished once more into the wall, which returned to its former smooth surface, leaving no trace of the weapon having ever been there. Thundercracker relaxed marginally and reached forward for the girl. Mechanical arms got there first, carefully lifting the girl from the floor and giving the mech a better hold than he would have had trying to shift her weight into his hand by himself. The arms then retracted into the wall, disappearing as the gun had.

"Head for the rear port exit," Trypticon said. "There are the fewest mechs between here and there."

"Thank you," Thundercracker said, bringing his hands together to better hold the human. Soft clicking came from Morse as he scurried to his friend's side, taking up his usual position against her cheek, two legs carefully caught in her shirt material.

"Hurry," Trypticon said. "I plan to transform once all have left, and you would not want to bear witness to that."

"Not from the inside," Thundercracker agreed. "Farewell then."

"Farewell, and thank you for taking the human. Keep her safe." The last three words held a hint of unspoken warning as to what would happen should the Seeker fail.

"I will." Thundercracker said, then headed down the hall as quickly as he dared, ignoring the reguluar pings from his trine mates. They were checking on him, making sure he was alive, but he had no time to risk communication. Best to get off the ship immediately, then worry about how he would meet up with his trine after delivering the human to the Autobots.

* * *

"Mr. Wickety!"

Simmons' voice had never sounded so musical to Sam's ears. The boy even managed to ignore the usual mispronunciation of his name. "Hi, Simmons, what's up?" he asked, somehow keeping his tone semi-interested casual.

"Ah, Liaison Galloway, how nice to see you," Simmons said, flashing the man a grin while shooting Sam a quick thumb's up. "I'm sorry if you have official business with the kid right now, I need to speak with him about an urgent matter."

"What happened?" demanded Galloway, who had been in the middle of giving Sam some absolutely brilliant advice – his own advice – about being a liaison. "Does it involve the Autobots? Because I need to know everything that goes on between them and any human contacts, and I need to know first, which people on this base seem to forget on a regular basis."

"Nothing about the Autobots," said Simmon with perfect sincerity before spinning a quick lie. "His girlfriend is having a minor breakdown and I need him to come deal with it before she finishes soaking my handkerchief."

Concern immediately replaced Sam's nervous expression. "Mikaela? What happened?"

Shaking his head at the boy's gullibility, Simmons grabbed Sam's arm and tugged him along. "You better come and see for yourself. Say goodbye to the nice liaison, you can finish your educative chat later."

"Um, 'bye," Sam called over his shoulder. "Thanks for talking with me, I won't forget your advice."

"Then you will go far in the world," Galloway replied, smiling pleasantly, before heading off to find the Prime, his original target before the Witwicky boy had intercepted him. This entire business of stealing a Neutral bot's ship – bounty hunter or not, the mech was still technically not affiliated with their war – and running off with several of their best mechs _and a prisoner_, without even consulting their human liaison, well, Galloway had some words to say about that. Words that included the phrases Human-Cybertronian Agreement and Violation of Terms, among other things, like his least favorite and most used phrase, _Why the hell wasn't I informed?_


	35. From the Inside

It's been a long time, hasn't it? I know "I'm sorry" doesn't mean much, not when you've been waiting months for an update, but the truth is, it's the best I can offer. School and emotional turmoil conspired against me, and I lost. Lost inspiration, lost my muse, lost my motivation. But things are looking brighter now, better than they have in a long, long time.

All of you who have waited patiently for an update, thank you. In the past few months, I have still occasionally received reviews from you, sometimes nothing more than a simple "when are you going to update?" The fact that there were still people out there, waiting to find out what happened next, gave me the kick in the aft I needed to drag myself out of the pit and back into a story I've neglected for far too long.

Thank you for still believing in me, in Katrina, in this story. I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Five

From the Inside

"Are we there yet?" Sideswipe asked, probably for the hundredth time. Even his brother was growing tired of the silver mech's impatience. Due to the state of the ship's engine – the twins had gotten it working, but at a much lower capacity than it had originally been intended for – the ship was not moving as fast as its occupants would have liked.

"We'll get there when we get there and asking won't make this rust bucket move any faster," Sunstreaker snarled. "Can't you find something useful to do?"

Barricade sent Ironhide a look that was almost a plea, and the other mech gave a short nod and a sharp order. "Sideswipe, optics on that sensor display."

Grumbling, the younger Autobot turned to face the display. It had red dots on it of varying size and hues, all surrounding a green marker that indicated the position of their ship. A similar marker of deep crimson showed the location of the Nemesis. "Nothing has changed since I last looked...FRAG!"

"What is it?" Ironhide moved toward the display as best he could in the cramped conditions.

"The Nemesis is coming to us!" Sideswipe indicated the red marker slowly moving toward the green one. "They aren't even trying to cloak their presence for the approach."

Barricade cursed. "This ship's cloaking systems must have failed." Checking the diagnostics display, he confirmed this dangerous malfunction, though it wasn't too surprising that it had happened, nor that he had not noticed – there were too many damaged systems red-lighted to keep track of them all.

"Why wasn't there an alert?" Ironhide's cannons whirred in frustration, wanting to shoot something but unable to act, even as their enemies drew closer.

"Diagnostics isn't completely functioning." Barricade shifted his grip on the flight controls, optics glued to the view screen, waiting for the first visual glimpse of their enemy. "Nothing on this ship is in top shape."

"Nothing on this ship is in shape at all," Sunstreaker grumbled. "Primus willing, it holds together until we get back to solid ground."

"What is the status on the Nemesis?" Ironhide demanded, ignoring the yellow mech's grumbles.

"Slowing down," Sideswipe said, tapping the scanner's screen in case something had malfunctioned. "No signs of weapons being charged, and _what the slag?"_

"What is it?" Peering over the silver mech's shoulder, Ironhide frowned at the scanner. "That can't be right."

A fleet of tiny red dots were fleeing the larger red one, heading in equal amounts toward the moon and Earth. Protoforms locking into entry mode, if the slight flickering of the readout was any indication.

"Well, that's nice," Sunstreaker grumbled, interrupting the stunned silence. "They're bailing before we even get there."

"Good," Jazz said. "Provided none of them have Katrina."

Barricade let out a low growl at the suggestion, and prayed to any god listening that they would find the human onboard and alive. "Two breems until we make contact, provided the Nemesis doesn't open fire before then."

No mech voiced the looming question that plagued all their logic circuits – what could cause all the Decepticons to flee their own battleship?

* * *

Glaring at Simmons, Sam demanded, "What's wrong with Mikaela?"

"Nothing." Simmons rolled his eyes. "I needed a suitable excuse to rescue one idiot from another."

"Oh." Sam mentally face-palmed and fell silent, waiting until they were well out of the liaison's earshot before asking the question burning his tongue. "What did you find, then?"

"Hopefully what we're looking for," Simmons replied, glancing at his watch. It had taken almost ten minutes to hunt down the boy and the liaison. "Wheelie should be just about done with the download and first wave of decryption, provided he's as good as he says, which I doubt." He raised his eyebrows at the boy's incredulous look. "What, did you think I was going to waste time hacking the files while you were stuck listening to that as-"

"No," Sam interrupted quickly. "Well, yes, but thanks for getting me first anyway." He blinked, then added, "Wait, Wheelie helped? I thought that he wasn't going to?"

"I can still make a good case when duty calls," Simmons said. "Pick up the pace, we haven't got all day. Eventually someone is going to find the security guard knocked out in the liaison's quarters and when he wakes up, I want evidence to wave in Galloway's face."

"Optimus won't be happy."

"You only just figured that out, kid? This isn't about pleasing Mr. High-and-Mighty, it's about getting a job done, in this case, exposing Galloway for what he is before he makes even more trouble for everyone."

"Are you doing this for Katrina?" Sam asked, quickening his step to match Simmons's seemingly effortless strides.

"What?" Simmons shook his head. "Whatever gave you that idea? Not that she won't benefit, of course, without him to pull the human-protection card. I'm rather curious to know what exactly he wants with her, other than as a bargaining chip with the Autobots."

Either the ex-agent was a good liar, or he still had no idea about Katrina's supposed relation to him.

"Did you know her, before she came to stay with my family?" Sam asked innocently, but they had reached the correct door and Simmons was fishing in his coat pocket for a key, ignoring the question.

The door opened into a dark room, the only light coming from a laptop screen and two glowing optics, one red, one blue. Simmons snapped on the light to reveal Wheelie crouched next to the laptop, one finger jabbed into a port on the side, the other tapping across the keyboard with uncanny speed.

"About time you two showed up," he said, looking up from his work even as his fingers continued to fly over the keys. "You are not going to believe the stuff I've found here. Galloway's a pretty bad boy, as you humans say it, even without going into all the web links to-"

"No need for the dirty details about his web surfing habits," Simmons said, waving a hand toward the laptop screen. "Government secrets. Encrypted files. Anything Autobot or AllSpark-related. Go."

"Well, it turns out that this guy has been involved with the Cybertronians long before Autobots ever ventured to Earth. He was part of the Ice-Man project-"

"Not surprised," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Also one of the top government aides assigned to the AllSpark experimentation."

"Of course," Simmons said. "I knew that snake looked familiar. He poked around our cell-phone experiments a few times." He scowled. "But his position was a minor one in the organization, I thought."

"Apparently he was practically running some parts," said Wheelie. "And it wasn't anything to do with cell-phones like the little insect the girl carries around in her pocket. In fact, it's got to do with that girl. And you, Simmons."

There was a slight shift in the man's eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you're listed in the security detail at the lab," Wheelie replied.

"That was a short-term job," Simmons replied. "And top-secret."

"You knew about this?" Sam demanded, leaning toward the screen to get a better look at the files Wheelie was scrolling through. One phrase caught his attention as though it had been highlighted in red. "Human experimentation?"

"It gets better," Wheelie said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Human experimentation on _children_. I thought your government was supposed to prevent harm to sparklings?"

"Special permits and lab-grown embryos," Simmons muttered, when Sam leveled a glare on him. "You wouldn't believe the number of forms I had to sign just to get the job, and I needed it. No one else was hiring at the time. My sister had to beg her supervisor just to interview me."

"Your sister worked there?" Sam asked. _Did they take her child away? Or..._ He stopped his mind before it could venture further down that path.

"Yes, as one of the head scientists," Simmons sighed, his expression sad. "She died in an explosion, along with her husband, a little over two years ago."

"Right about the same time Katrina needed a place to stay," Sam said, frowning.

"Yes. The lab was almost completely destroyed and rebuilding would have been too expensive – not to mention they lost their best scientists in the explosion – so they shut it down. A few lab subjects needed to be removed from the vicinity, which is why I got put in charge of relocating them."

"Where are the rest of the kids?"

"Safe," Simmons replied. "And before you ask, Katrina needed watching, which is why we arranged for her to stay with you."

"Why her in particular?" Sam wanted to ask if the man knew his sister was Katrina's mother, but decided not to bring that up yet.

"She was the only successful experiment," Simmons said. "All the other ones failed to contain the energy properly. Don't ask me for the details, I never understood all the scientific stuff behind it and my sister was quite closemouthed, anyway. After I got fired, I didn't expect to hear anything from her again, for reasons we won't go into now. It was only after the explosion that they needed someone to clean up, and as a former S7 agent they expected me to be discreet, which I was."

Sam thought back to how Katrina had acted during her brief stay with his family. A lot of things made sense now. "What were they trying to do?"

Simmons shrugged. "Test the effects of the radiation on humans? Create a superior lifeform? How should I know? I was just on the security detail for a couple years, and no one tells the night guards what they're guarding."

"Did you meet Katrina while you were there?"

"That's really not important," Simmons said, turning his attention to the laptop screen. "What we need to know is just how much Galloway was involved in this organization, and whether we have the information we need to make things very, very uncomfortable for him here."

Sam recognized a dismissal, and although it annoyed him, he knew there was little more he could do to help. "Shall I check back with you in a few hours? I think I might go take a nap."

"Good idea. Keep your strength up, kid."

"Hey," Sam said, pausing at the door. "I've got one more question."

"What is it?" Simmons asked.

"The kids in the lab, I mean, when you say grown in the lab, do you mean like test tube babies? Who were the parents?"

"I have no idea where they got the eggs and sperm, if that's what you're asking," Simmons replied. "For all I know, it could have been from the scientists living in the lab. My sister certainly always considered her experiments to be her children, whether or not they actually involved children."

"Human children." The idea made Sam ill at the thought. How could anyone approve such a thing? Sure, kids could be loud and obnoxious, but whatever their origin, they were still children. Kids like the ones he had hoped to have with Mikaela someday, if he could ever figure out what exactly she wanted from him.

"I would have quit if they hadn't fired me first," Simmons said quietly. "Now go find a nice cot and leave the professionals to their work."

Sam went, still shaken from the news, though he found himself not quite as surprised as he ought to be. He had known they had done something bad to Katrina, and now he had a much better idea what that had been, even if the details were still fuzzy. No wonder she had left his house when the opportunity arose, and declined the invitation to live on the base with the Autobots. At least with Barricade she had no fear of the government watching her every move. Though, considering how much surveillance they had under their control, he wouldn't be surprised if people were still keeping an eye on her, just in case.

Lost in his thoughts, Sam didn't notice Mikaela was standing in front of him until he walked into her. Startled, he opened his mouth for an immediate apology, but she silenced him with a fingertip against his lips.

"I'm the one who should be saying sorry," she said, beautiful brown eyes darker than usual. "I'm glad I ran into you. This is good-bye."

Everything else – spying with Simmons, the Autobots, Katrina in trouble – blinked out of existence. All Sam could see was Mikaela's lips, those perfectly shaded lips, forming the words he had expected since she had gotten into the car.

Despite knowing this day would come, Sam could not stop himself from uttering an incredulous, "What?" He cursed himself inwardly as soon as the question slipped out, knowing that it would not have any effect and only make himself look more like an idiot than he already did. Steeling himself for the rejection he already knew was coming, he said in a much calmer – to his ears – voice, "What do you mean, 'good-bye'?"

"Sam," Mikaela said in that slightly exasperated tone she used whenever he said something she thought was inane, "it means what you think it means. I'm leaving."

"But..." Sam thought about the events of the past few days. "You...you came...you came to help me," he said, voice breaking. "I need you, Mikaela. I love you."

Mikaela shook her head. "All you've ever needed since Bumblebee arrived was your Autobot friends, Sam. When you died, I thought I lost you forever, but I really lost you a long time ago."

Sam shook his own head in response, unable to find the words he needed, the words she wanted to hear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, finally, voice steady again.

"Sam, I would have given up my life for you," Mikaela said.

"You know I would do the same," Sam said, grasping straws now. "I'd do anything for you, Mikaela."

"Would you, Sam?" A tiny spark lit in the back of Mikaela's eyes, and for a moment her face softened, then she looked away, down the hall. Sam followed her gaze and saw Optimus Prime standing there, watching them but keeping a respectful distance. He turned back to find Mikaela staring at him, searching his face for something. "Would you give them up, Sam?"

"What?" Sam flinched back. "The Autobots?"

"Yes, Sam, the Autobots. I care for them too, but I'm not going to get myself killed for them, Sam, and if you want me to stay, you can't let that happen either."

"Mikaela..." Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then stared straight into those beautiful blue eyes he loved so much. "I can't."

"All right." Mikaela began to turn away, then glanced back with a sad smile. "I wish you the best, Sam, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, Warrior Goddess?"

Sam jumped, then glanced down at his feet, where Wheelie was transforming from his truck mode, somehow managing to sneak up on the humans during their conversation. "Wheelie, you know that eavesdropping is rude!"

"Big Guy's doing it," Wheelie said, nodding toward Prime, still standing at the end of the hall. "Why can't I? Besides, if whatever you're discussing is so private, get a room."

"Good-bye, Sam," Mikaela said, and walked away.

"Good-bye? What does she mean, good-bye? Warrior Goddess!" Wheelie leapt after her, but Sam grabbed the mech's arm, holding it gently but firmly.

"She's leaving," Sam said. "Let her go."

"What are you saying? You're not serious about just letting her walk off like that, are you?" Wheelie struggled for a moment longer, then slumped against Sam's leg as Mikaela turned around the corner, vanishing from sight. "She dumped us, then? What happened? I didn't say anything to upset her, not that badly."

Sam just shook his head. When a shadow engulfed his own, he looked up at Prime with a sigh. "Hi, Optimus."

"Sam," Prime said gravely, kneeling down on the concrete floor of the hall. "I am sorry. I never wished to cause a rift in your social life."

"It's not your fault," Sam said. "It's mine." Looking down at the mech sobbing on his leg, he shook his foot a bit. "Wheelie. Wheelie!"

"What?" asked Wheelie, looking up with eyes glistening with drops of oil. So much for the clothes Sam had borrowed – he hoped they hadn't been new. "Warrior Goddess left me behind!"

"She is tired of the war," Optimus said. "I do not blame her. Many of us would like to see this war over, or have the chance to walk away as she has. I wish her well. But, Sam..."

Sam raised exhausted eyes to meet calm blue optics. "Yes?"

"You have stood by us valiantly since we first met. I do not believe I say this nearly as often as you deserve, but thank you."

The tiniest fraction of a smile twisted at the corners of Sam's mouth and he gave a slow nod. "No, Optimus, thank _you_."

"For what, Sam?"

"For believing in me." Sam offered the mech a smile, then nudged Wheelie with his foot. "What were you doing here, anyway?"

Wheelie's optics brightened and he bounced to his feet. "Simmons sent me. He wants you to come see him right now. Something to do with the kid."

"Katrina?" Sam glanced at Prime, who looked expectantly back. "Um, got to go, Optimus, sorry. I'll explain later, just don't be mad."

"I look forward to the explanation," Prime said, rising to his feet. "By the way, the rescue team has almost reached the Nemesis. I thought you might like to know."

Sam nodded, feeling a slight twist of fear in his stomach. His friends were up there, including his best friend, and Sam hoped Bumblebee returned unhurt. No way of knowing what kind of greeting they would get. "Thanks for letting me know."

"You are welcome. I will contact Wheelie when further information is available, so you might know how things are progressing."

"Playing messenger," Wheelie muttered. "What fun."

"Okay. Thanks, Optimus. Let's go, Wheelie." Sam scurried down the hall, hoping that Optimus would not be too mad when he found out just what exactly Sam, Wheelie and Simmons had been up to while the rescue team sped through space. "Do you know what he found?" Sam asked Wheelie.

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you," Wheelie replied. "But from the look on his face I'm guessing it was a bit of a shock."

"He didn't know," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Who didn't know what?" Wheelie asked.

"You'll find out shortly," Sam said. "I think."


	36. Out of Options

Not much to report. Still in the land of (mostly) no internet... I do read and appreciate all of your lovely reviews, though, when I have the chance. :) Thank you for continuing to follow this story as it nears it's completion.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Six

Out of Options

Rounding the corner of the hall, Galloway spotted his target, not that Optimus was difficult to miss considering his height and bright blue and red coloring. "Prime!" The liaison marched down the hall, resisting the urge to wave his hand at the mech to get attention. So what if the mech stood several stories high. Galloway expected to be treated with the respect that his position deserved. "Prime!" he called again, not having received a response.

In a slow, smooth motion, Optimus turned and knelt, somehow making the move seem honoring rather than condescending. "Liaison Galloway, how may I be of service?"

As usual, the calm tone, filled with just the right touch of deference and command, made the liaison bristle. He always had a sneaking suspicion that behind that cold blue gaze lurked laughter, and he glared up at the mech. "I demand an explanation for my non-involvement in the recent departure of that ship you brought in. You promised it would not take off without government supervision."

"We had no time," Prime said. "Forgive my haste, but we had reason to believe that the human child's situation had become compromised."

"Compromised? In what way?"

"In the hands of the Decepticons, it is rare for a prisoner to be treated well. The longer she remained on board that ship, the more likely harm would be caused."

"I see. So this gave you permission to drive a spaceship onto this base, then fly it out with a good portion of your force aboard?"

"Each member of the rescue team volunteered," Prime replied. "Although our agreement demands cooperation where the war we now share is involved, this was a simple mission to recover a lost comrade, nothing more. Swift infiltration and rescue, a task to be completed by my best mechs."

"Nothing to do with the war?" Galloway laughed. "They are flying straight toward an enemy ship that is the perfect analogy to a hornet's nest, and it's pretty easy to rattle hornets. If your team brings an army of Decepticons down upon us because of one human child-"

"Liaison Galloway." Prime's voice held a tinge of sternness, a hint of anger so light it was barely noticeable but still sent a chill down the man's spine. "We do not place innocent human lives in danger. Your government had no means of retrieving her, nor any right to do so."

"We have every right! She is an American citizen, she belongs to this country and you Autobots will have nothing further to do with her once they return. If they return."

"They will return," Optimus said, leaning forward just a fraction. The liaison took a step back, fingers tightening on his briefcase handle, and the Autobot leader held back a smile. He hated to frighten the man, annoying as he was, but sometimes a little fear did wonders for cooperation. Prime could understand at times like these why his brother acted the way he did, though that would never excuse Megatron for the atrocities he had committed in the name of justice. "And when they return," Prime added, "Katrina's future will be decided by her, and her alone."

"I know you're big on the everyone-gets-a-choice thing, Prime, but I'm afraid she's exempt, being a minor. As an orphan, she is a ward of the state, and as such will be placed in a proper home. That way your babysitting soldier can get back to doing his job and that Neutral can be placed under tight surveillance. I still have trouble believing you allowed such a being to take care of a child. A _human_ child. She belongs with her own race."

"I have warned you before," Prime said, standing to his full height and looking down at the human, so small in comparison, looking up from below. "You have no claim on Katrina and any attempt to do so will be met with resistance from myself and the entire Autobot force."

"Are you _threatening_ me, Prime?"

"Merely stating facts."

"Because I warn you, government officials do not take kindly to being threatened." Galloway scowled. "Though we may be perfectly justified in threatening to evict your kind from our planet should it be deemed necessary to do so."

"You would not," Prime said. "Because the Decepticons will not leave to follow us. They are after Earth now as well, and Megatron will not give up until he has done as he wants with your race. You need Autobot support against them."

"Do we really?" Galloway shook his head. "Perhaps for now, you are right, but eventually will come a day when you are no longer needed, Prime, and you better hope that you are on the good side of the government then, because space is a very, very cold place, or so I hear."

"You hear much," Prime said, and walked away down the hall, adding to himself, _And understand little. "Ratchet, any news?"_

_ "Nothing, Prime, although monitoring would be easier if these two hooligans were in the brig."_

Prime imagined the scowl on the CMO's face and wondered how many wrenches had been thrown at the twins, despite their injuries. _"Are they up and about already?"_

_"Up and about? They hardly need to move to cross my processors, Prime. I swear I will reprogram their vocal circuits if necessary, or shut them off completely for a bit of peace and quiet."_

_ "Do what you need to, Ratchet, but be gentle. They _are_ young, after all."_

_ "Oh, I'm very gentle,"_ Ratchet said, transmission layered with a tone Optimus knew all too well. The Autobot leader made a mental note to check in on the medbay later. Perhaps the twins needed another lecture on conduct. He vented air, remembering Bumblebee at that age. Even then the yellow mech had tempered his fun-loving side with obedience and caution, raised as he was by soldiers in the middle of a war.

Although the twins' back story wasn't known – Arcee had run across them in her travels to Earth and they had been unforthcoming with their history, save for mentioning their parents' deaths at the hands of a Decepticon – Optimus was pretty certain they hadn't had the upbringing they deserved. Their rough-and-tumble appearances hid sparks that had been injured more than once. Patience was required, and despite Ratchet's complaints, and those of other Autobots, Optimus knew no one would suggest giving up on the twins.

* * *

Megatron entered the room with a bow, knowing the Fallen would not be pleased with him and hoping he would be allowed an explanation before punishment fell. "Master, forgive my intrusion-"

"What is it?" The Fallen's voice was sharp, and his red gaze bored into Megatron's very soul as he waited for the response.

"The ship..."

"Has come alive. I heard. Every mech on board heard. Your incompetence is horrifying."

"Forgive me, Master, I did not expect this to happen."

"The AllSpark's power is obviously unstable and must be removed from its current vessel."

"Yes, Master. That can be dealt with as soon as I have control of the ship again." Megatron took an involuntary step back when faced with the look the Fallen was giving him, and amended his suggestion. "Our...your forces are fleeing the ship as we speak. I would certainly suggest that retaking command of it would serve you well in the future."

"Its sentience will require termination," the Fallen said. "Where are the main processors located?"

"The engine room, I believe," Megatron replied.

Standing, the Fallen leaned upon his staff of twisted metal and pointed at the door. "Take me there."

* * *

A gentle rocking motion, similar to being on boat or in a car, greeted Katrina and for a hazy moment she forgot where she was. "Barricade? Where are we going?"

"I am not Barricade," said an unfamiliar voice. "And we are getting off this ship before someone comes looking for you."

Noticing that the metal under her body was warm, unlike the cold floor of the ship, Katrina guessed a mech was carrying her before she even opened her eyes. Looking up, it took only a second to recognize the mech in question. "You're the Seeker..." Her voice trailed off, her mind racing to remember the mech's name. Not Skywarp, it was the other one.

"I am Thundercracker," the mech supplied. "Now please be quiet."

"You brought Morse back." Katrina reached for her friend and relaxed upon finding him next to her shoulder, eyes dimmed in recharge. She ran a gentle finger over his head and down his back, wondering if he had something to do with this mech suddenly offering assistance. "Starscream won't be happy you're helping me."

"As long as it goes against some plan of Megatron's, he will permit my transgression." Thundercracker held a finger of his free hand to his mouth in a very human-like gesture. "Now shhh. Almost everyone has bailed by now, but I don't want to risk being caught by someone who disregarded your big friend's orders."

"Trypticon," Katrina murmured, turning her head to watch the walls blur past. "He's risking a lot to help me. So are you. Why?"

"In his case, a debt is owed." Thundercracker picked up his pace, not explaining his own reason until Katrina pressed him further.

"Why are you helping me?"

Red optics met violet eyes for a second before the Seeker returned his attention to the path ahead. "I...regret human involvement in this war. Also, you are a youngling even by your race's standards."

"Not to mention being the AllSpark or whatever," Katrina muttered to herself, forgetting how keen Cybertronian hearing could be.

"No," Thundercracker said, speaking the truth. "That had nothing to do with it."

* * *

Sam burst into Simmons's quarters. "What did you find out? Wheelie said it was urgent?" He found himself face to face with a handgun and backpedaled into the door he had just slammed shut, holding his hands up. "Whoa, there! What are you doing?"

Simmons holstered the weapon and scowled. "Don't just barge in like that! Knock!"

"Paranoid," Sam muttered.

"I heard that." Simmons folded his arms. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Sam asked innocently, knowing all too well what Simmons was asking about.

"Tell me that that girl they are currently hunting for out in _space_ is my _niece_."

"Oh. That." Sam fidgeted. "What makes you think that I knew?"

"Your behavior leading up to leaving this room last time you were here suggests that you knew," Simmons said. "I can play back the security tapes if you want."

Sam almost asked why there were security tapes in a private room, then decided not to ask. If the government was watching the civilians, he didn't really want to know, and if Simmons had installed the cameras himself, then Sam really didn't want to know, although he wouldn't be at all surprised considering how paranoid the former secret agent could be.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Simmons demanded. "Who else knew?"

Sam shrugged. "A few people, I guess. Optimus, I think. Secretary Keller? Katrina doesn't."

"Well, of course she doesn't," Simmons said. "I doubt she even knew my sister was her mother. They raised her..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "So much for not bringing back old memories," he muttered under his breath.

"Does it matter?" Sam ventured. "I mean, it's not like you want to adopt her or anything."

"She _is_ family," Simmons said, voice becoming more certain as he continued to speak. "If I must do my part, so be it."

Sam considered what Katrina's reaction to this would be, and held back a grimace with difficulty. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Granted, I might not have much now, but she deserves to be raised by family, not by giant robots. I'll make the offer when she returns."

"Do you need me for anything else right now?" Sam asked weakly, edging toward the door.

"No, you go ahead," Simmons said, bending over his laptop keyboard again. "I have a few more things to check out. Give me a shout when the rescue team gets back, would you?"

"Sure," Sam said, and hurried out, Wheelie right on his heels.

The small mech shook his head. "I'm getting the feeling that his offer ain't going to be met with happy tears."

"I doubt it," Sam agreed. "But don't tell him I said that."

"I said it first," Wheelie said with a shrug. "So, what are you going to do about Warrior Goddess?"

Sam laughed bitterly and shook his head. "You heard what she said. She's leaving. There's nothing I can do about it."

"So that's it? You're just going to let her go?"

Shoulders slumped, Sam nodded. "Chasing girls never helped me much."

"But it's _Warrior Goddess_," Wheelie said. "You're never gonna find another girl like her, you know."

Sam sighed. "I know."

* * *

Megatron slowed to a stop before a heavy door with an entry pad that blinked red. Locked. He turned to the Fallen gestured to the blocked entrance. "This is the engine room. Destroy what you need to, but remember we...you will need the engines for the Nemesis to maintain flight."

"Do not presume to tell me how things should be done," the Fallen snapped, then raised his staff and slammed the tip into the door. A burst of energy blasted through the metal, leaving behind jagged, melting shards. The ship shuddered, then an electromagnetic field shimmered into view across the opening.

"Lord Megatron." Trypticon's voice came from various speakers in the walls, giving the impression that it surrounded them. "Cease these attacks upon my body at once, or prepare to face the consequences."

"Megatron is nothing compared to me," the Fallen roared, slamming his staff down. Its tip sunk into the floor. "Lower that field at once or my next blow will destroy everything in sight!"

"The engines, Master," Megatron murmured, but the Fallen was fast reaching the point beyond reason, and Megatron felt a tiny hint of regret, which he immediately squashed, for bringing back the mech in the first place. Losing the Nemesis would not help the Decepticon cause at all, and it looked like they might be headed down that path if Trypticon didn't start cooperating. Trading one strong asset for another did not seem like good planning to Megatron, but there was no way to change what he had done. He just hoped that it would be worth it. Certainly Prime would not be able to kill the Fallen for a second time. Not with the mech now infused with the very power of the AllSpark. Megatron could still feel snaps of its energy in his veins, from his first resurrection and then the second.

Powerful, that was the word for the feeling he had. He had never felt more powerful. And watching the mech ranting before him, Megatron began to plan the Fallen's demise. It was a thought he would have never had before seeing Prime rip off the ancient mech's face, but now Megatron was beginning to realize that his master was no better than himself, except in power, and if there was a way to take that power for himself, well, Megatron wanted every scrap he could get.

* * *

A sharp shudder ran the length of the ship and Thundercracker stumbled, catching himself against the wall before he regained his balance and continued on, optics searching his surroundings for any sign of a problem.

Katrina sat up, searching their surroundings for an explanation. "What was that?"

"I don't know." Thundercracker began to run. "But it might have been a warning. Perhaps Trypticon is planning to transform."

_Not while I am on board,_ Katrina thought, hugging her knees to her chest. _Or maybe he thinks I am already gone?_

Another quake rocked the ship and Thundercracker slowed his pace a fraction, needing to maintain his balance – a fall could badly injure the human. His feet still pounded down the corridor, making no attempt to be quiet now. Any mech foolish enough to get in his way would get run over or knocked aside by the Seeker's large bulk.

Turning down yet another corridor, Thundercracker found himself face-to-face with another mech turning the next corner ahead of him. Both mechs came to a halt, eyeing each other suspiciously.

Katrina had buried her head in her arms, but with the sudden stop she looked up to find herself facing Soundwave. With a muffled squeak, she jerked back, relaxing only once she realized that neither mech had made a threatening move yet. Unless that meant they were working together and Thundercracker had been lying this entire time. Katrina began to tense again.

"Stand aside," Thundercracker said, noting the soft sigh of relief from the human. Had she thought this was a handoff? Not that he blamed her, considering how rough things had been. It had to be difficult to trust anyone when everyone seemed to be after you.

Soundwave's only movement was to tilt his head slightly forward, optics turned toward his feet. Thundercracker followed the other mech's gaze and found several of Soundwave's symbiotes standing on the ground. Looking up again, the Seeker realized Laserbeak and Buzzsaw were perched on Soundwave's shoulders, so still they had resembled pieces of armor.

"Leaving?" Thundercracker asked. "Where's your master?"

"You possess the human youngling."

Thundercracker's internal fans clicked up a notch, compensating for a rise of heat in his body. "Simply moving her to a safer area, as Lord Megatron ordered."

"Lord Megatron ordered no such thing." Before the Seeker's cooling system could break from stress, Soundwave gave a single shake of his head, a barely perceptible movement. "I have seen nothing."

From a mech who heard all, saw all, and reported all, it was the last thing Thundercracker expected. "Why..." His question faded out of priority when the human in his hand stirred and moved closer to the edge of his palm.

"Frenzy..." she whispered, eyes riveted on the symbiote, her gaze full of longing and pain. Thundercracker recalled that the small mech had previously been AWOL, living with the human. A small noise came from the little sparkling on the human's shoulder, something akin to a whimper followed by a series of loud and soft beeps.

Frenzy returned the looks with an impassive stare, and Thundercracker wondered what exactly Soundwave had done to the mech. Had he really wiped his memory? Cold as Soundwave could be, the Seeker couldn't see the intelligence officer treating one of his symbiotes like that, but perhaps he had been wrong. He glanced at Soundwave, searching the mech's face for a response to the human's reaction, but as always the mech's face was blank.

Then Soundwave bent a little, stretching out a hand to touch Frenzy gently on the head. "Your choice."


	37. Resistance

As this fic nears its end, I find myself struggling with each chapter. Perhaps because I have been working on this particular story for so long, my muse simply does not want to let it go. Or maybe it's because that although I know the ending, reaching that ending is difficult, because I want everything to flow perfectly into the finish.

Either way, there will be two more chapters after this one.

Thank you, everyone, for your continued support, through faving, adding alerts for, reviewing, or simply enjoying this story. I try to respond to everyone's reviews, and thank each of you - but if I have missed you, know that I am eternally grateful.

DISCLAIMER: Been a while since I had one of these, so a quick reminder that I do not own Transformers, or any related media. If I did, I would not have college debt and a minimal bank account. However, my OCs are my own and must be used with permission, should such an occasion arise.

* * *

Chapter Thirty Seven

Resistance

Megatron, sensing his master's fading patience, decided to try once more to reason with the ship-form Decepticon. "Trypticon, you will obey my orders. Drop this field and fire upon the approaching vessel. This is your last warning."

If anything, the electromagnetic field grew thicker. "No, Megatron."

"Enough." The Fallen waved Megatron back with an impatient hand and raised his staff. "It is time to return this traitor to his rightful place in the Pit."

Several things happened at once. Soft whines and clanks of internal machinery warned Megatron mere seconds before the walls, floor and ceiling began to shift around him. The control room, being the current location of not simply the command center but Trypticon's newly relit spark, was located in the center of the massive Cybertronian's transformation hub, the first place things began to shift. The Fallen slammed his staff down and sent a violent pulse of energy into the electromagnetic field shielding the control room. It exploded, leaving a taint of smoke from burnt circuits and a miraculously unharmed room beyond. And a solid door slammed into place, barring further entry just before the damaged wall shifted away and became replaced with untouched metal, as the floor began to tilt.

Time to leave. Megatron wasted no words on his master, deciding to leave the mech to his fate. If he had been operating at full capacity, perhaps the Decepticon leader would have even shot the Fallen in the back on his way down the hall toward the nearest airlock, but safety had become his first priority. Besides, a small part of his still screamed to obey the mech that had terrorized his life for so long. But no longer. Megatron smiled grimly, even as he shifted into his aerial altmode and fled from his lost spaceship. Now, at last, he could see his destiny clearly as the uncontested leader of the Decepticons, answering to no mech.

* * *

Memories flooded his processors, and emotions with them. Including his protests when Soundwave first tried to lock away part of his processor. Frenzy started to bat Soundwave's hand away but it was already drawing back, as though the larger mech had heard his thoughts. Looking up, Frenzy saw the pain in his creator's gaze, but Soundwave gave him a short nod.

_"Go."_ The word echoed through their bond, repeated back by the other symbiotes to a lesser extent as they watched the exchange.

Relief flooded Frenzy's systems, mixed with a pain that mirrored the one shining through his creator's and brothers' optics. Frenzy touched Soundwave's hand briefly, nodded to the others, then bounded across the distance separating him and leapt into Thundercracker's hand, tumbling into Katrina's arms.

Muscles protested against movement, but Katrina tightened her grip around her friend anyway, feeling the shudders running down his frame. It had been a difficult choice, and Katrina half-wished he had chosen differently, for his sake, though her own heart sang with happiness. Looking up, she met the silver mech's solemn red optics. The girl searched Soundwave's placid face for an explanation, but all she caught was a brief flicker of sorrow before the mech turned away and continued down the hall.

"This way," Thundercracker said, turning down a side hall. There was a smaller exit in this direction, one that might even go unused while the last few stragglers raced toward the larger exits. Another shudder ran through the ship, and he decided to throw caution to the wind, racing down the corridor as though Pitspawn were after him. And considering all he had seen since they had arrived on Earth, it would not have surprised the Seeker much if this were the case.

He reached the airlock in record time, transformed and hurried his passengers onboard. They took their seats in his cockpit, it being the safest place, long-disused belts clicking into place around the human's frail form. Frenzy wedged himself beneath the seat, and the sparkling vanished into the girl's clothing like usual. After a quick sensor sweep of the nearby space, void of everything save the swiftly retreating forms of other Decepticons, Thundercracker dove from the air lock and shot toward Earth's surface like an arrow.

Something beeped, the small blip of an incoming, anonymous transmission. It came from the ship, and Thundercracker hesitated before accepting the contact. Not an actual connection, just a prerecorded message wrapped into a small package of data sent after the Seeker.

_"A small vessel approaches. I believe Autobots may be aboard, perhaps a rescue attempt. Recommend cautious approach. Safe journey."_ No tag to name the sender, but from the succinct contents, Thundercracker had a good guess who it might be. Soundwave had honestly meant to help them, whether for Frenzy's sake or for some other, unknown reason, the Seeker did not know or care. Adjusting his flight path to intersect with the given coordinates, he engaged his jets and spiraled away from the Decepticon warship for the last time.

* * *

A small ping told him the message had been received. It served no further purpose to remain on the swiftly transforming ship. Soundwave pressed the button that opened the airlock, then stepped inside, followed closely by the symbiotes. All were uncharacteristically silent, and Soundwave let the door cycle shut before turning to them. Without a word, his chestplates slid back, revealing a large carrying hold. One by one the symbiotes transformed into their most compact format and deposited within, until all had settled, leaving a blank space and unfelt weight where Frenzy usually tucked himself between Rumble and Laserbeak.

Chestplates slid back into place, hiding his symbiotes away. As the outer door began to open, Soundwave transformed, drifting into space as a satellite that acted quite differently from the manmade kinds. With unusual speed, the satellite shot away from the ship, taking a curving path that would soon set it in orbit around Earth once more, hidden in the net of satellites and space junk that the humans had created in mere decades.

There he would wait, until Megatron called upon him again. Soundwave closed his optics and for once made no attempt to connect to the human surveillance system when he arrived in his usual place. Time enough for that later. For the moment, he wanted nothing more than to simply rest. His symbiotes settled into a state similar to stasis lock, all but the most vital systems shut down, a deep hibernation from which they would not wake until they had been given the signal by their creator.

* * *

Barricade looked up from the sensor readings, hoping that the visual sight of the Decepticon warship would give him a better explanation for what was happening on the Nemesis. "I don't like the look of this."

"It doesn't make sense," Jazz agreed.

"Someone want to explain to me what is going on?" Ironhide asked, glaring at the viewscreen.

"The Nemesis appears to be transforming," Sunstreaker said.

For a big ship, it had already gotten halfway through the process with unusual speed, far faster than any non-sentient mechanics could allow for, at least as far as Barricade's limited knowledge of such technology extended. Barricade thought back to the early days of the war, of the time of large warships such as Omega Supreme and Trypticon. The ship Nemesis had been brought by Decepticons from Cybertron, but Barricade had served on it for only a short time and had never made the connection between it and those great Cybertronians he had thought destroyed in the last battle before Cybertron had been pronounced lost forever. If the ship did have sentience now, Barricade had a good idea how that had come to pass, and he willed his own ship to move faster. Ratchet's words had shaken him, and the guardian's spark ached for his charge. Silently swearing to make the mech responsible for using her power pay, Barricade coaxed a little more speed from the already overtaxed engine. At least this not-so-small sign of a transforming warship proved that Katrina was indeed onboard and alive, or had been.

The small blip from a proximity sensor had the former Decepticon almost slamming on the metaphorical brakes, but the blinking red dot on the screen moved toward them in a slow curve. Not the approach of an enemy firing high-power rockets. Another ping came from the ship communications board, which had somehow survived destruction, and before anyone could stop him, Sunstreaker jabbed the accept button.

Ironhide shot the yellow mech a glare and leaned a little closer to the mike. Voice short and hard, he demanded, "Identify, mech."

_"This is Thundercracker, Decepticon Seeker, requesting permission to transfer the young human female to your care. She requires immediate medical attention, which I am unable to supply. I offer in exchange my surrender to the Autobots until such a time as they wish to release me, as a show of my good intentions."_

Barricade's spark stuttered in his chest – at once happy that his charge lived, and horrified by the phrase "immediate medical attention". What horrors had she been put through during her time on the Nemesis? The thought of the Decepticon warship brought his gaze briefly to the view screen. Before them, the massive form of a mech now floated in space, silent sparks spiraling and jumping around his frame as the transformation completed. Damage covered the mech's body, but a spark glowed bright in his chest.

"Stop the ship," Ironhide said. "'Con, you are going to approach slowly and surrender at once, because the only reason you haven't been shot down is that human in your hold."

_"Understood."_ Thundercracker's end went silent, save for a soft hiss-crackle common during inter-space communications.

With Ironhide watching the mech's approach like a hawk, Barricade turned his attention to the newly birthed Nemesis. Still drifting along from the momentum of his transformation, the mech did not seem inclined to react, either to the presence of the fleeing Decepticons – most now lost against the black void of space or burning specks in the Earth's atmosphere – or the presence of the commandeered ship, now slowed to a halt. His body tense, Barricade waited to make a move when the other did. _Let Katrina get onboard before we have to run_. His optics flicked to the other screen. Thundercracker's little red blip moved much too slowly for the black mech's tastes, but at last it slowed to a stop beside the main entry hatch.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe," Ironhide ordered without need for further words. All three mechs left the room, giving the others a little more space. Barricade paid no attention to the resettling of the room's current occupants, and they did not interrupt his concentration. Every particle of his being wanted to be down there, rescuing Katrina from her Decepticon captor, but someone had to pilot the ship, and now that his charge was soon to be onboard, Barricade wanted himself to be the one to get the ship home safely.

_"Ironhide,"_ he pinged the mech over internal communications, realizing with a start that they had forgotten something important. _"Katrina must have air."_

_ "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are pressurizing the holding cell and connecting corridors."_

Barricade vented a soft puff of air in relief, then jumped with Jazz gave a short exclamation.

"'Cade!"

Ignoring the use of his loathed nickname for the time being, the black mech looked where the silver mech pointed and frowned. Nemesis had begun to move toward the Earth's atmosphere, picking up speed and then settling at one far too high for entry. A quick calculation of angle and velocity told Barricade that the mech would crash into the Pacific Ocean, too far from any landmass to cause damage from the collision, except to the Nemesis himself. Even before the mech reached the uppermost atmosphere, the energy arcs dancing across his body began to increase.

"What has happened?" Mirage asked, leaning closer to the view screen as though that might cause the image before them to make more sense. "He will die."

"Such a big mech might make it," Barricade said dubiously.

Jazz shook his head. "Not a chance."

* * *

Thundercracker kept his movements slow, not simply to dissuade his captors from shooting him the moment they retrieved the human, but also to offer said human a gentle move from his cockpit to another mech's hands. Having Ironhide's fingers so close to critical lines made him uncomfortable, but transforming was not an option. Not with the human unresponsive. She had gone into stasis sometime during their trip, and he and Frenzy had been unable to wake her. Soft mumbles and the occasional groan came from the girl during the transfer, and Ironhide cupped his hands around the girl with unusual gentleness.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, secure the prisoner," he ordered, before checking the pressure in the corridor outside the holding cell's door. Not perfect yet, but it would do. Calculating the swiftest route to the command room from his knowledge of the ship's layout, Ironhide departed, leaving the twins to their job.

"Don't try anything funny, 'Con," Sunstreaker warned as he and his brother began to snap the holding cell's restraints onto the Seeker's arms, legs and wings.

"I don't suppose you plan on defecting like Barricade now?" Sideswipe joked, clicking the last bar into place. A flick of a switch on the wall, and a gentle electrical current flowed through the restraints, adding an extra degree of security against any sort of escape.

"My loyalties are to my trine," Thundercracker stated. "And they shall remain so."

Sideswipe shrugged and followed his brother out the door. It slammed shut behind them, leaving the Seeker in the dim light of the holding cell, alone in his thoughts. He could not even contact his trine to let him know he was all right, as the holding cell had been shielded against communications from the outside. For a brief moment he thought about the origins of the ship and wondered how the Autobots had managed to finally capture Lockdown and his vessel, which the Decepticons had known the location of for quite some time. No doubt Barricade had passed on this knowledge though, perhaps even willingly. His connection to the human was a strong one. Thundercracker could almost imagine it rivaling his trine bond – a guardian should never be trifled with. Ironhide had been proof of that during Bumblebee's infant years. Thundercracker settled in a more comfortable position and dropped into a light stasis, deciding that his best option at the moment was rest, rest and wait for judgment upon the arrival to the Autobot base.

* * *

Sunstreaker took over the controls once Ironhide reached the command room. Barricade cradled his charge in his hands and sat braced in a corner, scanning her again and again. Every scratch, abrasion and nick became recorded in a medical file to be transferred to Ratchet upon their immediate arrival. When he discovered the wounds on the human's back, his spark flickered in pain, horrified by the damage. Although her spinal column had miraculously escaped injury, the deep slashes struck him deep in the core. How could he have allowed this to happen? Only the expert bandaging gave him pause – someone had cared enough to ensure her survival before the Nemesis began to cause trouble.

"Frenzy, did you do this?" he asked, indicating the bandages with a tip of his claw.

Frenzy shook his head. "Starscream-showed-me-how-and-Rumble-helped. Will-she-be-okay-Barricade?"

Air hissed from his vents as Barricade considered the situation. "I hope so," he said at last, not willing to make promises he might not be able to keep, no matter how spark-wrenching the thought was. "Her injuries are grave."

"Hey, 'Cade," Jazz called, looking up from his fiddling with communications. "Shoot me the diagnostic file, I'll patch it over t' Ratchet so he can get a med team standin' by."

Again with the nickname. Barricade checked a momentary rush of irritation. Katrina's wellbeing was far more important. He shot the files over, via their personal communication line, and Jazz set about getting them downloaded into the ship's computer for transferring to Earth.

"Down it goes," Sideswipe called, drawing their attention to the screen, where the Nemesis had been approaching Earth's atmosphere. Its shape soon vanished in a red haze, a highly visible comet on its way to the northern part of the Pacific Ocean.

"Trypticon," came a soft mumble from Katrina.

Barricade looked down to find his charge semi-conscious, eyes barely open as she squinted at the view screen. "Trypticon?" he repeated back, more to keep her talking than because the word had registered. Then it sunk in and he almost missed her response at the startling thought that she, a small human, could have brought such a colossal being back to life, even with the power of the AllSpark.

"He saved me," she whispered, each word slow and forced through barely parted lips, as though the effort to speak was almost too much. Her violet eyes filled with tears that trickled down, leaving paths in the blood and dust that coated her face. For a moment, her voice strengthened and she tried to sit up, agitated. "The Fallen, Barricade! He's on the ship."

Barricade's spark grew cold. "The Fallen? You brought him back?"

"Yes." The tears flowed faster now, and Katrina turned her head away, refusing to meet his optics. "He would have killed Morse."

A soft chirp came from the girl's jacket and the insect squirmed from his hiding place to rest on her shoulder, head bowed in shame. Barricade sent Morse a gentle ping of acceptance, not accusing the little mech. Had he been in Katrina's position and she had been in Morse's, the black mech had no doubt that he would have done the same.

"Rest," Barricade told his charge, resting the tip of a claw on her forehead. "If the Fallen has returned, Prime will deal with him as he did before."

Katrina closed her eyes and settled down, but her mind remained a turmoil of pain and dark emotions. Then a sharp stab sent a spasm through her body, and she whimpered, reaching up slowly to clutch her head.

_"Little one, can you hear me still?"_

The voice was Trypticon's, shaky and full of pain. Katrina thought of the burning image on the screen, and the lecture Jazz had once given her on the approach to a planet with atmosphere, how a mech had to be transformed into entry mode or risk irrevocable damage. With all her might she wished to respond to the mech, let him know someone was still there. _"I can hear you."_

_ "Your voice is faint, sparkling. You must rest. The Fallen will not survive the crash, this I promise. He remains weak and my death will encase him in a tomb, deep beneath your planet's ocean."_

_ "I didn't bring you back to die!"_ Katrina felt more tears gathering, a mixture of despair and pain. The ache in her head was almost unbearable, but she refused to let the darkness envelop her.

_ "You did not bring me back for a reason, but you gave me life and now I return the favor. Live long and well, sparkling. This war has been fought for far too long and must end. My first passing came too late, after the death of my own planet. If my second passing can help save yours, then so be it."_

_"Thank you."_ Katrina wanted to say so much more, but before she could Trypticon transmitted one last message.

_"Good-bye, sparkling."_

The connection vanished, along with her headache, a relief from pain so sudden that Katrina's eyes opened, just in time to watch the mech's last moments on the view screen. Hazy in the distance, a red glowing spot against the vast blue ocean. Katrina's eyes stung from salty tears, but she refused to blink until the mech landed in the water. Water sprayed up from the crash site. When it had settled, there was no sign of the spacecraft. The pang of loss was too much for the girl's overstressed body to handle. Closing her eyes, she let the darkness take her somewhere there was no thoughts, no loss, no pain.

His constant medical scans caught the drop in the girl's vital signs at once, and Barricade made a sharp sound that brought everyone's attention on him. He paid little attention to them, however, focused completely on his charge until Jazz's hand on his shoulder brought his optics up to meet the silver mech's concerned blue gaze.

"She's fading," Barricade growled. "We need to get to your base now!"

"Going as fast as I can," Sunstreaker said, no sarcasm at all in his voice, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I can't coax anymore from the engines."

"Give the controls t' me," Jazz said, nudging the yellow mech away from the pilot's chair. "I'll get us there." Adjusting a few dials, he braced himself in the chair and nodded to Barricade. "Keep her steady, this may get a bit bumpy."

Barricade locked his joints, holding himself in the corner with every ounce of strength he had. The others had barely settled in secure positions before the saboteur shoved the ship's engines into a burst of speed they had never been meant to offer. The ship's walls creaked and groaned under the sudden stress. Barricade's sensors picked up the acrid smell of burning circuits coming from the boards he had repaired, and he prayed to any god that might be listening to let the ship last until they made it back.


End file.
